Harry Potter and the Darkspawn Horde
by Locathah
Summary: Harry's day takes a turn for the worse when he finds himself thrown out of New York and head first into a cavern wall in Thedas. Then the dragon tries to eat him. But it isn't until a cursed army of contagious monsters turn up to tear him limb from limb that Harry finally realizes that someone is probably sending him a message. On the upside, at least he isn't dead.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : Anything you read here that comes from the Harry Potter books is not mine. If it comes from the Dragon Age games then it also isn't mine. I do, however, own the monocle.

Note : Canon up to and including book 5 of Harry Potter is observed. Anything after that is for the most part ignored.

A/N- minor edit on 2013/08/01 - reorganized and tweaked some of the initial paragraphs.

A/N - 2013/08/26. : bunch of minor edits, mostly stupid mistakes fixed and a couple of sentences were tweaked. I have someone doing some beta reading work for me now so the quality should improve going forward. I'm going back and applying some edits to the first three chapters as well starting with this one.

A/N - 2013/09/09 : A couple of minor edits including corrections as suggested in the review written by Ibskib

**Chapter 1 :**

"Something the matter Potter?" The native New Yorker's voice was gravelly and deep as it broke the silence of the nearly empty structure of metal and fiberglass. The bus shelter was situated on a busy downtown street and was large enough to fit about a dozen people with elbow room to spare. Yet despite its size, the heavy rain and the prominent location, it was empty except for the two loitering wizards. Outside a man in a business suit stood oblivious as he waited for a bus, soaked to the skin by the rain pouring down around him and the intermittent spray from the spinning tires of passing cars, the unfortunate victim of a notice-me-not charm blanketing the dry haven in which the two wizards had convened.

The first thing Harry had noticed about Howard was the monocle he wore. It was small, perhaps an inch across, with a perfectly clear lens and a thin almost invisible golden frame. More remarkably it also hovered in mid-air, floating untouched without a single tangible connection to its owner. The optic would weave and bob every time Howard moved as it tried to maintain its position in front of his glaring eye and when stationary it seemed to vibrate with repressed energy. This was for the most part all normal behavior for a magical monocle.

The bit Harry couldn't quite wrap his head around was the monocle's tendency to spit out ephemeral pink sparkles almost every time Howard blinked. It was so completely out of character with his hard boiled exterior and grizzled visage that Harry had to assume he was unaware of the flamboyant feature. Given how dangerous the man could be and his perpetually dower expression Harry imagined that he'd probably had the monocle for years and no one had ever been able to work up the nerve to point the extra feature out to him. Harry would have been hard pressed to keep from laughing at the flowery shapes the sparkles formed during their brief vibrant existence but, as ridiculous as the contrast was, Howard simply wasn't the kind of person you made mockery of.

Harry figured that Howard Basely stood somewhere near six and a half feet tall, towering over Harry's more modest five feet and ten inches. Being a wizard it was hard to tell how old Howard really was. Most wizards didn't start to show their age until they were at least fifty and even then it was slow to catch up to them. The more powerful the wizard the longer it took before time's grip tightened and Howard Basely was undoubtedly a man with some magical muscle backing him up. He was older than thirty, younger than eighty, and that was about all Harry was sure of.

Of course Howard also had the regular kind of muscle, or at least he seemed to, the trench coat the American aurors all wore concealed most of him but the bulging arms and over sized shoulders were still hard to miss. His hair was unremarkable, a thick dark brown nest of curls that looked like it could use the touch of a proper barber. It seemed oddly mismatched when paired with the thick stubble that covered his jaw. His face, in Harry's opinion, couldn't seem to decide if it wanted to be round or angular and just ended up looking slightly thuggish. Several thick ropey scars laying across his right cheek and forehead made it obvious he'd been in one too many fights to the death and also begged the question – what did the other guy look like? Howard's eyes, so dark as to appear almost completely black, darted about with a burning intensity that focused quickly on anything that caught his attention. The pink sparkly flowers perpetually forming and fading around his right eye should have ruined the intimidating effect and yet somehow they just weren't up to the task.

"Only that this plan is complete and utter bollocks." Harry snarked back in his contrasting British accent. He then took another assessing look at the towering construct of steel and glass that they had been observing for the past half hour. Directly across from them on the far side of the street it looked fairly impressive until you noted the even taller buildings that bracketed it on either side. Harry thought the entire scenario was actually quite ridiculous. The idea that any self respecting dark lord would make his lair in a muggle office building was something he found quite appalling.

Harry'd had more than his fair share of encounters with dark wizards in his short life and he'd developed certain expectations for their behavior and habits. Shadowy castles, evil caves, mystical stone formations on top of ley lines, even manor houses both decrepit and regal, all were perfectly acceptable places for dark hideouts and evil rituals. In comparison the modern construction before them was entirely mundane and inappropriate and Harry was sure their target must be violating some kind of guild bylaw. Maybe if he could figure out how to report him the whole mess might take care of itself. The only appropriate aspect of the scenario was that the building was exactly thirteen stories tall, thirteen being a number known to muggles for misfortune and to wizards for its magical significance.

Harry Potter lacked Howard's bulky muscle and he made for a leaner less imposing figure at first glance. Nevertheless he had finally left behind the continual undernourished thinness he'd suffered from as a young teenager at Hogwarts and had since developed a certain wiry strength that became obvious whenever someone stopped to take a second look. Quidditch and trooping around the vast interior of the castle he'd once called both school and home had only begun the transformation. It had been the months running and fighting death eaters across all of England which had completed and honed it. His hair hadn't changed though. Untameable, wind swept and always defiant of any comb or brush that touched it his pitch black coif always managed to look like he'd just stepped off a quidditch pitch. A pair of thin framed spectacles completed the look, rarely removed in deference to the near blindness he suffered from without them.

Beneath his bulky trench coat Howard wore only black jeans and a dark brown shirt. The ensemble was completed with a broad brimmed dark brown leather cowboy hat that sat firmly on the top of his head. Harry in contrast sported an odd dragon-hide wizard's robe left open at the front and worn over a button up white shirt and a dark pair of trousers. Both men looked completely out of place on the streets of New York and were sure to grab the attention of anyone who noticed them. Not that anyone did.

"If you think it's so bad why the hell did you agree to help?" Howard inquired while eying a large piece of parchment in his hand. Dark black ink scrawled over its surface and illustrated an amazingly detailed layout of the first floor of the building before them as well as the streets around it. With a flick of Howard's finger the lines faded into the parchment only for more lines to quickly scratch across its surface with ridiculous speed until a new layout formed of similar shape. With a final flourish the title 'Second Floor' was inked across the top of the page in the finest calligraphy and the non-existent quill drew no more. Flicking quickly through the floors in similar fashion Howard confirmed that his aurors were in place and that none of the targets had changed position. Blue dots showed on the map where the dozen wizards and witches at his disposal were stationed near the first floor entrances in teams of four. Harry himself showed up as a purple dot directly beside Howard's own blue indicator. Finally red dots appeared on the top floor. There were thirteen of them laid out in an ominous circle in a large open area centered against the north wall.

"You asked. What are those grey dots?" Harry responded blandly. Outside the businessman had since been joined by two others in similar attire as well as a plump middle aged woman dressed in jeans and a yellow blouse. The woman was the only one of the group blessed with protection from the elements but she looked just as badly off as the rest. Unfortunately her flimsy umbrella wasn't really up to the task given that the rain wasn't so much falling as it was engaging in a frontal assault on any and all who dared stand against it. The entire group looked miserable and Harry couldn't help but feel more than a tad bit guilty. After-all it was his wand that had cast the concealing ward.

"What grey dots? There aren't any grey dots. And I met you when you were wiping the floor with a trio of his most accomplished followers because they offended your sensibilities. Of course I asked. I'm understaffed and you're not afraid to show lowlife scum the end of your wand. You still could have said no." Harry hadn't meant to get into that fight but despite his best efforts he'd never been able to quash his impulse to help those in need with little thought before hand to the potential consequences, especially when those in need were right in front of him. That these particular victims had also been attractive young women hadn't done anything to dissuade him from his instinctive response. He'd been shopping in the wizardry district when three suspiciously nasty looking wizards in dark robes with their hoods up had started herding a pair of frightened young witches towards a dark alley at wand point. He'd decided to take offense and the wizards had made the mistake of taking offense to his offense and well that had been one offense too many. He might have gone a bit hard on them but his frustration with how he'd left things in Britain had been eating away at him for months. Harry was fairly certain that whatever the wizards had planned for the young witches would have been fairly traumatizing and quite possibly fatal but for some reason they'd soon seemed much more terrified of Harry than they had been of their erstwhile assailants. Given the way they'd screamed when the severed head and shoulder of the last wizard had fallen at their feet he wasn't at all surprised that they hadn't stopped to thank him before fleeing. But at the end they had left alive and unmolested so Harry had still chalked the entire affair up as a victory.

"There." Harry pointed to some almost invisible splotches on the map of the top floor that seemed to drift aimlessly across it without regard to walls or doors. They all seemed to join together and separate indiscriminately making it hard to get a count of how many were actually showing up. "And I agreed because you've got a nasty wizard who thinks Voldemort was about as evil as a nifler. From the way you tell it his greatest aspiration is to surpass Grindewald`s body count and that's more than a little bit frightening. And I agreed because you didn't tell me the bloody plan before hand. We have no idea what we're walking into. The place is one giant trap. I keep having visions of him port keying out as soon as we walk in the door and dropping that entire monstrosity on top of our heads."

The entire incident in the shopping district would have put him in a world of trouble back in Britain even if he was still their favored wizard savior. Disemboweling a wizard in the middle of Diagon Alley was just the kind of things that the ministry aurors tended to frown upon. When Howard had shown up he'd taken one look at the remains, snorted, and then spat in what remained of the face of one of the corpses. Then he'd ask if Harry was interested in killing any more dark wizards. While wizarding Britain often seemed stuck in the middle ages America's wizards and witches had gotten a little further along before finally stagnating. As far as they were concerned the wild west had never been tamed and if someone made too much trouble justice administered entirely at the point of a wand was perfectly acceptable. Howard had even had a deputy badge in his pocket that he'd insisted Harry stick to the front of his robes for the duration.

"We should be attacking through the top floor windows from brooms. We attack right through that long glass wall they're all standing in front of." Harry pointed out again. He'd already made similar comments twice before and didn't expect it would change anything this time either but he wanted to make sure he had a firmly established basis for criticism when the operation inevitably turned into a cock-up.

"Because I'm sure that would look wonderful on the six o'clock news. New York is a no fly zone for a reason Potter. And those splotches don't mean anything. The charms must be failing. Why are you even here? In the country I mean, get that look off your face. " Howard's expression twisted into a crooked leer. It stretched his scars oddly and Harry imagined he was staring at two mismatched faces that had been badly stitched together, forming a new much more frightening visage when combined. The monocle spit out a couple of pink orchids and Harry wondered briefly if the strange little thing was mocking him. "From what I hear you're some big fucking hero back in England these days with a vault full of galleons and witches falling all over themselves for the honor of spreading their..."

"Oye! Shut it. You're disgusting Howard. I emptied the vault before I left." Harry interjected while rolling his eyes. Obviously the rumors were exaggerated. If there had been hordes of attractive young witches looking to shag him he'd somehow missed them all. As it stood he'd been far too busy trying to deal with the nightmare of post-Voldemort Britain to go on so much as a single date much less work his way through a bevy of buxom young women.

"My point is if I had that kind of a welcome waiting somewhere I sure as hell wouldn't be off hunting down dark wizards in a foreign country." Howard finished with exasperation. Howard hadn't talked much about his personal life but Harry'd gotten the distinct impression he wasn't the sort to settle down. Perhaps he was envious of the imagined situation?

"Oh yes. Everyone in England wants a piece of the man who punched Voldemort's ticket. Have you ever been to England Howard?" Harry groused. Howard grunted in acknowledgment before replying.

"Can't say that I have. Wet from what I've heard. And cold." Harry looked pointedly at the puddles surrounding the bus shelter they were standing in and the torrents of rain that continued to soak the shivering muggles waiting for the bus and shook his head.

"I'm not talking about the weather Howard... and don't believe everything you hear. I'm talking about the ministry. It's all up for sale in wizarding England. The government has its collective hand out waiting for a bribe. The paper will print anything if they think it will make them a galleon. Finally there's the people. They just blindly follow this so called government and believe everything it spoon feeds them. Voldemort was finally dead. I figured that was it. I'd done my part and things were finally supposed to get better. No more fair weather friends. No more pure blood politics. I thought it was all downhill from there. Play some quidditch. Maybe even find a witch and settle down to have a few kids." Harry paused for a breath and Howard took the opportunity to comment.

"Not so much?"

"Bloody Death Eaters buying their way out of prison – again! Murderers and worse and six months later half of them were considered upstanding citizens and suggesting anything else was an unfounded insult. No one seemed to care! These monsters slaughtered people, some of them my friends, and I was expected to shake their hands and smile. That's what the minister wanted anyway. I killed Voldemort after all so it was expected that I'd go and shake hands and make nice for the cameras. Never mind that he was pushing for legislation to reduce the rights of anyone who had anything to do with the muggle world. You probably know by now that Voldemort was raised in a muggle orphanage. They printed it in the Daily Prophet four months after he died. Tom Riddle - the evil muggle-born wizard with delusions misleading our poor bamboozled society and starting a war. Better watch out they started saying. Another muggle-born might do the same ungrateful as they are with their strange muggle trickery. Need to keep a closer eye on them. Everyone conveniently forgot that Voldemort's mother was a pure blooded witch playing with love potions of course." Harry paused in his diatribe to watch as a bus finally pulled up to the stop. The muggles sloshed a bit as they worked their way up the stairs in their soaking wet clothes and paid their tolls. To assuage his guilt Harry surreptitiously flicked a couple of low powered drying charms at them as they worked their way through the door. It wasn't much. He used only enough magic to upgrade them to merely unpleasantly damp.

"And people believed all this you say?" Howard queried while pointedly ignoring the minor breach of the statute of secrecy. Enforcement of the American version of the policy was much less strict. Technically on paper the law was as stringent and unyielding as ever promising the harshest penalties for even the slightest violation. In practice Harry had quickly discovered after his arrival that it was quite a bit more flexible than that. If it didn't end up on television or in a newspaper then law enforcement generally couldn't care less. If it ended up in the tabloids that was apparently just fodder for a good laugh.

"They loved it. Wizards and witches everywhere could suddenly consider themselves better than Voldemort. They had wizard ancestry after all and obviously this pathetic dark lord came from nothing. Never mind that they used to piss themselves if you whispered his name in a crowded room. I saw the writing on the wall. All that violence and perseverance was for nothing. If everyone was willing to throw away what I'd nearly died fighting for then I wasn't about to stand around and fight for them a second time." Harry finished. He'd left England shortly after his twentieth birthday and even after five months his resentment still hadn't faded a whit.

"So you came here. What about your friends?" Howard fished distractedly around in his pocket. Harry suspected he was looking for his compact. It was just about time and if Howard wasn't ready to call for the strike his aurors would start getting nervous.

"That's right. I left. I emptied my vault and I scarpered. I suggested they do the same. The ones who saw what was happening called me a coward. Most of them, the ones who didn't, just thought I'd gone round the twist. Again." Harry almost spat the last word out. He'd been accused of dark or insane behavior one too many times during his Hogwarts years. When he'd been a kid he'd let the hard feelings lapse and forgotten harsh words in favor of renewed approval and support. But he'd been young then and he'd since grown up. Grudges had become much harder to let go of.

Howard Chuckled as he found what he was looking for but left it and his hand both situated in the pocket. "Still doesn't explain why you're helping us pick a fight with the dark ass hole himself."

"A friend once told me I have a saving people thing. She was usually right." Harry explained after a moment of silence. His voice brimmed with suppressed emotion.

"Smart girl this friend of yours." Howard commented hesitantly. Harry could tell the man realized he'd stepped in something sensitive. He thought for a moment and turned to put Howard off with a vague response and instead found the horrid tale slipping unbidden from his lips.

"Most brilliant witch I ever knew. She always wanted to fix every thing. Champion of lost causes my Hermione was. Right up until Draco Malfoy removed her head with a dark cutting curse." Harry could hear the wistful tone in his own voice slide smoothly into repressed anger. There was no point in anger anymore but it was still there whenever he remembered.

"Sorry." Howard responded gruffly. The kind of understanding bought through similar experience resonated in his voice. The empathy calmed the violence in Harry's thoughts and he sank into dark satisfaction as he remembered how the story ended. "Rotting in prison I hope? Or better yet just plain rotting?"

"Azkaban – but only for three months. Then information magically came to light proving that he'd been under the influence of a compulsion potion. Completely innocent. Very fortuitous for him. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the donation Narcissa Malfoy made to the Minister's discretionary fund only a week before." Harry replied blandly.

Howard scowled. One advantage to the wizarding America mindset was that very few truly dark wizards survived long enough to reach trial. The idea had appealed to Harry and dictated his destination of choice when he abandoned England.

"His wonderful luck didn't last out the month." Harry continued in a monotone. "While he was in prison a nest of acromantulas set up a nest on his ancestral grounds. But there wasn't much game for them to eat so when they ran out of rabbits and deer they swarmed the manor and dined on its occupants. Their guest, a young muggle woman that Malfoy had been entertaining, somehow managed to escape and hide in a well warded room under the parlor floor but Draco and his mother died tragically. Wasn't much left of the bodies when the aurors finally arrived. In an interesting twist the hidden room under the parlor was filled with dark objects of the worst kind. They weren't the kind of things an innocent wizard or witch would keep in their home."

The expression on Howard's face turned to horror as the implication behind Harry's works sunk in. Harry turned and smiled at him briefly, letting his satisfaction with the dark ending to the tale surface for a moment. Harry figured he'd reached his quota for reminiscing for the day and he turned to prompt the wide eyed Howard onward and couldn't help but note that for the first time since they'd met his visage was free of pink floral arrangements. "Shouldn't we be walking into an ambush right about now?"

Harry watched as Howard tried to adopt a stoic visage but the disturbed reaction lingered in his eyes even as the monocle began once again cheerfully sparkling. A tulip was soon followed by a lily and then a petunia and Harry wondered again if the monocle was a bit less mindless than it appeared. Harry couldn't blame Howard for his shock as anyone who had ever come face to face with an acromantula knew how terrifying the things could be. Harry had sat on his broom and watched through the window from under his invisibility cloak to make sure events transpired as intended. It had been the single vilest experience of his entire life but he'd forced himself to stay from beginning to end as the acromantula swarm had eaten them. Mrs Malfoy had been lucky enough to have her head bitten off first making the entire experience from her perspective fairly quick and painless. Draco hadn't been so fortunate. They'd started with the younger Malfoy's feet.

Howard watched Harry for a moment longer before shaking himself free of contemplation. Having come to the end of some internal debate he took his right hand out of his pocket and flipped open the compact mirror he'd been cradling. Two middle aged wizards and a fairly attractive blond witch stared back at him with their visages squished together cheek to jowl to share the small space provided by the tiny surface.

The leader of team one was an older wizard with thinning grey hair and a face that was beginning to develop significant wrinkles. A full but neatly trimmed beard adorned an unremarkable visage but his brown eyes heralded the staunch resolution of a veteran lawman as he waited for his orders. His name was Maurice and Harry remembered that he'd had a surprisingly strong hand shake when they'd met briefly at the short planning session earlier in the day.

The second wizard had blue eyes and was obviously younger than the first. Harry had guessed that Thomas was still at least forty given that when they met he'd spent the entire time talking about his two kids still attending Salem's institute and his eldest who'd recently taken up a career as a potion brewer. Flat red hair sat over what had at the time been an animated enthusiastic cleanly shaven face. Now his features had transformed into the serious focused look of a professional. Harry supposed there was no greater motivation to pay attention and get home in one piece than a family waiting for you to return – or so he'd like to imagine anyway.

Cindy, the final team leader, wasn't just the only witch in the group but she also couldn't have been older than twenty-five. Harry figured this both because of her smooth facial features and because of the way she'd spent the entire meeting flirting with him. He hadn't been able to suss out if she was actually interested or just naturally a flirt and it had left him vaguely unsure how to respond. She'd been amiable and cheerful and not the slightest bit boring and before the meeting had broken up she'd pulled him to the side and suggested slyly that they meet up for some firewhiskey after 'kicking some dark lord ass' so in retrospect she'd probably been trying to get him to ask her out the entire time. Despite her lack of seniority the others at the meeting had obviously respected her. The members of her squad that exceeded her in years had deferred to her without complaint and he could only assume it was because she was a talented and deadly witch. Remembering her rather athletic build and the twinkle in her hazel eyes when she'd trailed one seemingly delicate hand down his arm before leaving he figured he'd probably take her up on the implied offer. He wasn't dead after all, just very unhappy, perhaps some of that cheerfulness would rub off on him.

"We have a go. All teams breach your entrances in sixty seconds." Growling the command before flipping the compact shut Howard threw an imperturbable charm over himself and headed briskly out of the shelter into mid day traffic. A quick flick of Howard's wand combined with a strange incantation in a language Harry didn't recognize and the slowly moving cars filling the street all came to an abrupt halt. Howard proceeded without pause, weaving effortlessly through the magically grid locked traffic, and then stepped smoothly back off the street and onto the opposing sidewalk. Their entrance point was a set of thick glass double wide doors locked and barred despite the mid afternoon weekday hour. Howard had chosen the spot with the thought that if someone used the obvious entrance and made enough noise that anyone paying attention might miss the other teams slipping in the back. Harry's reputation and the example he'd made of the dark lord's followers had somehow elected him to play the part of sacrificial lamb right alongside Howard and so he followed him across the street – the rain sliding off an invisible shield that he'd cast earlier and never bothered to take down.

"So Potter," Howard asked as stood before the doors, the sound of loud swearing accompanied by a multitude of blaring horns escalating behind them. He waited while Harry waved his wand around the door trying to feel out any magical protections that might have been placed upon it. "How did the goblins take it when you asked them to transfer your galleons."

Harry glanced briefly at Howard before looking back to his work. "Transfer?"

"From your vault. You told me that you emptied your vault. I have to imagine those goblins weren't cooperative when you told them you wanted to transfer everything to the gnomes." Harry figured his confusion must have been obvious as Howard continued to explain as if to a simpleton with frequent pauses and skeptically raised eyebrows "There's a blood feud. Any goblin stupid enough to set foot in America is likely to find itself gutted before it's gone five feet from the shore."

"I didn't" Harry replied while checking the front door for alarm wards with a few flicks of his wand. The door glowed briefly. Harry wasn't an expert on such things but he'd picked up enough through necessity to recognize alarm spells that would most likely resonate through the building at the first sign of any directed magic. Fortunately detection spells were intentionally passive for the most part picking up on the faint leak of energies that any imperfectly charmed object leaked into the air around it and there was no such thing as a perfect charm. Fortunately the dark lord in question hadn't accounted for more muggle means of gaining entry though that was probably because the aversion charm that was also visible on the door was almost strong enough to send a determined muggle running into oncoming traffic. "I've never even met a gnome."

"But then what did you do with all the galleons? I thought the Potters were one of the five richest families in Britain. Or was that just a bunch of bull shit spread by some uppity pure bloods?" Howard watched as Harry casually removed a massive muggle sledge hammer from inside his robes. The tool was three feet long, felt like it weighed a ton, and had a head that on its own was bigger than the pocket it had been retrieved from. Most importantly it was real, not conjured, and completely bereft of magic that might set off the alarm spells. Harry had learned the hard way that it never hurt to come prepared.

Taking a couple of steps back Harry held the hammer raised behind him in a two handed grip and then he swung it around and at the door throwing his entire body behind the blow. Several brackets, the locking bar, and the entire pane of glass that had filled the door were all thrown inwards and fell with the hammer to the ground on the tiled interior floor. Harry raised an eyebrow at the spider webs of cracks covering the glass pane and found himself very impressed that aside from a single crease down the middle it was still mostly intact. Howard just stepped in and over the hammer without any comment and Harry quietly followed him inside.

The building was the product of a modern muggle mind. With the exception of the fake marble flooring the interior was formed entirely of metal, glass and concrete and yet still somehow managing to look somewhat posh. Harry supposed there were such buildings in London but he'd never seen them. Castles and dungeons he felt right at home with but downtown New York felt like a foreign world to him. Harry forced his mind back to their conversation as the sound of their foot steps echoed throughout the cavernous lobby.

"Oh no." Harry answered as they approached the stairwell. Howard checked for traps on the door while Harry turned to keep an eye the empty space behind them. "I had a literal mountain of galleons in my family vault."

"And? If you didn't leave them with the goblins or transfer them to the gnomes what did you do? Convert it all into muggle funds?" Finished whatever detection spells he had been using to make sure the door was safe Howard opened it a crack and glanced around. The stairwell was well lit, surprisingly airy for such a confined space, and completely empty. It was also ridiculously tall. Harry wasn't sure which would be worse, climbing the stairs or fighting the dark wizards at the top. They'd talked about sending a team up the elevators before dismissing the idea as a blatant request for trouble.

Harry rolled his eyes as he began jogging up the stairs behind Howard "I thought about that but the conversion rate with the Goblins is criminal. No, right now it's all in my pocket."

Howard's response was a snort and an eye roll.

"If you didn't want to tell me, " he grumbled between heavy breaths, by this point the two of them had jogged up seven floors worth of stairs and neither of them were taking their time about it, "Could have just told me to mind my own business"

"No, really mate." Harry's response was a bit easier and he even felt a grin slipping onto his face. Between quidditch which was a better work out than most wizards thought and the constant running from either death eaters or the press he'd managed to stay in pretty good shape. "My inside breast pocket – filled with a mountain of galleons it is."

By the time they'd run all the way to the thirteenth floor Harry was starting to feel the strain in his legs. Readying his wand and taking a deep breath he nodded to the recovering auror who nodded back with a grim look.

Howard then chuckled with genuine amusement before pulling out his mirror. Once again the mirror showed the faces of the other three team leaders but this time they were all catching their breath after their own rapid ascents to the top floor. "All right everyone – breach the floor in ten seconds."

Snapping the mirror shut and stuffing it into the depths of his right pocket Howard readied his wand and glanced over at Harry. "If you die Potter – mind if I keep your robes?"

Howard then laughed and turned to face the door while Harry cast a quick unlocking charm at it and placed his hand on the knob. "I'll make you a deal. If I die you can have my robes. If you die I get that pink sparkly monstrosity you call a monocle."

"Sounds fair," Howard began before stopping abruptly. Harry could almost see his mind going back over Harry's last sentence in more thorough detail. "Wait – pink... what did you say?"

Harry grinned and wrenched the door open without answering. Howard was nothing if not professional and he instantly forgot their banter as he slid through the door with his question unanswered, his wand raised, and his eyes scanning ahead of them for the expected ambush.

The hallway was dark and it was empty. Harry slid out of the stair well beside him and looked in both directions. It all matched Howard's tactical map. To their left a short hallway turned and disappeared. To their right a longer hall continued all the way to the elevator lobby with several other halls pealing off to head toward the building interior. Glass doors dotted the walls in both directions and behind each could be seen some variation of modern black and metal office furniture. None of the rooms looked particularly inviting.

"Too quiet." Howard grumbled. "They're either incompetent or there's still a surprise waiting for us. Cover me while I check the map."

Nodding Harry stood back and waited while Howard dug the parchment out of his coat. Harry scanned the seemingly empty hallway and thought to himself that their ought to be more light. The ceiling lamps were off but the large glass windows in the offices were clearly visible and bright despite the overcast sky. Still none of that light seemed to reach the hallway which remained dim and shadowed.

"Everyone is where they're supposed to be. And if we don't get a move on we'll be late to the rendezvous." Howard stated and moved to put the parchment back in his pocket.

A shadow in one of the offices moved and Harry spun to face it. "Bloody hell..."

"Potter?" Howard barked and turned. Even as he did so something else flickered in the corner of Harry's eye and he spun only to find himself confronted with yet another empty office. Howard noted where Harry's attention lay and stopped to peer into the office as well only to snort in disgust. "Get a hold of yourself. I thought you were up to this."

"Check the map again Howard. There's something here." Harry insisted with a tense voice.

Howard lifted the map that was still in his hand and waved it in front of Harry. The thirteen red dots continued to hover in a circle inside the large room that dominated the north wall and the blue dots of the other aurors all stood in formation at the various entrances. Harry noted that he and Howard weren't the only ones that weren't moving along as they should. Each of the teams of aurors were milling about instead of proceeding towards their goal. Finally he noted several of the grey splotches loitering in near by offices including the one where he was sure he'd seen something move. Another grey splotch caught his eye as it crept through walls making a bee line towards his and Howard's position. Then suddenly one became two. Then four. Then nine. Similar groups of splotches drifted towards the auror teams and Harry found himself suddenly very sure that there was nothing wrong at all with the charms on the parchment.

"The splotches Howard." Harry hissed. "Look at the bloody splotches."

Harry grabbed Howard's arm and dragged his protesting form along the longer hall towards the elevator lobby at a sprint not even waiting to give the older wizard a chance to look at the map despite his admonishment. What was coming for them was going right through the walls as if they weren't even there. Standing in a small hall to face them could very well be a death sentence.

Harry didn't stop running until they'd reached the center of the elevator lobby. One wall opened out onto the city offering a clear view of the buildings across the way and the frantic street far below them. Two banks of gleaming elevator doors lined two opposing walls and beyond that a hall angled into the building interior and, if he remembered correctly, led almost directly to the room in which the gathering was taking place. Harry let go of Howard's arm and spun to observe the room. When nothing immediately assaulted them he began to throw out blue bell charms indiscriminately. The gentle glow of the floating lights blanketed the room as they attached themselves across the ceiling and the area quickly lost its ominous appearance.

"What the hell do you think you're doing." Howard growled his voice expressing his anger as well as it could without shouting loud enough to alert their quarry to their presence. Harry merely raised one finger as a request for patience and then inscribed a glowing fiery rune in the air before poking it in the middle and sending it lancing into one of the elevator doors where it left a scorched black impression behind as it faded away. Three more symbols followed one roughly on each side of the lobby and one etched into the glass window behind them.

"Use cursed fire Howard. Or if you know them spirit lancing spells will work even better." Harry advised. The auror sent him a confused look that lasted for only a moment before his eyes widened in surprise.

A thick cloud of darkness pressed into the room through the interior wall. It flowed across the lobby and for a moment all the light Harry had created with the blue bell charms seemed to vanish engulfing them in pitch black suffocating darkness.

Then the runes exploded with blinding light and the darkness dissolved as if it had never been leaving behind over a dozen ethereal shapes formed of shadow and mist gliding towards them across the once again well lit floor.

"Fuck" The word spat from Howard's lips was quickly followed by another curse but this one brought with it a flaming whip of fire that cut towards two of the closest creatures. As the line of fire passed directly through the first the creature broke apart into motes of fading shadow. The second slid upward and the whip cut beneath it carving off only a small portion of its substance where its feet would have been if it had been a human. More specs of shadow fell apart as the piece of it that was lost dissolved but the rest of it continued forward unperturbed. These beings, Harry knew, couldn't feel any pain. They didn't really feel much of anything at all.

Harry had encountered wraiths only once before. During Voldemort's second rise to power he had somehow enacted a dark ritual that had made him immune to all forms of direct hostile magic. It was an immunity he had first shown to the world by hunting down and murdering Dumbledore right in the middle of Diagon Alley. To try and find a way to counter the ritual Hermione had insisted that they first needed to know more about it.

Their search had led them to some pretty dismal places including the long abandoned hideout of a fifteenth century dark lord rumored to have once protected himself in a similar fashion. That wizard had died when three feet of steel had been shoved through his gut but Harry doubted going after Voldemort with a sword would end well for anyone. They'd tracked down the long dead wizard's abode which had long been hidden from both muggle and magical sight. It had been a twisting tower of mottled stone that seemed to rise up from the sea to climb up the side of a shear cliff. It, unlike the office building, had been an appropriate hide out for a dark lord. Hermione had been insufferable for days she'd been so proud of herself for tracking the place down.

It was inside the tower that they'd encountered the wraiths. The first had caught them off guard and it had nearly cost Harry his life. The spells he used on instinct flew through it unnoticed and it was only in desperation that he finally sent a fireball its way at which point the vile entity had fallen apart into scattered wisps of burning shadows. Their first trip had ended in retreat. They'd soon discovered that the creatures were everywhere in the tower and that darkness would reach out and cloak the approach of any sizable group making them impossible to fight against.

It had taken them a week of digging into the black family library but they had found what they were looking for in a book entitled 'Spirits, Ghasts, and other ghostly creatures'. A ghost or poltergeist was the memory of a person that had died and not been truly ready to go. Wraiths in comparison were an echo of the actual moment of a violent death. They were a remnant of the act itself instead of the unfortunate victim. The horror of such a moment, they had learned, often left behind an imprint on the surface of reality. Such an imprint would fade away if left alone harmless and forgotten when existence healed and the world moved forward. When provided proper sustenance however wraiths could be formed. In most cases sustenance consisted of an intentional flood of powerful magic pushed into the imprint by an accomplished wizard. The resulting wraiths were inevitably eager to recreate themselves over and over in acts equally as violent as the one from which they had sprung forth. Harry wasn't sure how a dark wizard would go about controlling them, they hadn't researched that particular tidbit, all Harry and Hermione had been interested in was how to fight them.

Taking a deep breath Harry twirled his wand over his head and gathered up his will. Harry had come to a point in his magical progression where most spells could be managed with little more fanfare than a thought and a token wand movement. Spells like the one he was about to try though took a little more effort. As the creatures drew close he swept his arm down and around while shouting out, his words echoing loudly through the lobby and undoubtedly reaching the dark lord and his followers deeper inside the building. "Scindam spíritus!"

The five wraiths that were already almost within reach were torn apart amidst a whirlwind of energy that rent the purely spiritual creatures apart while leaving all things tangible untouched. The spell was nothing more than a faint breeze to anyone or anything firmly rooted in the physical world but to creatures of spirit it was like being caught in a whirlwind filled with razor blades. Like the one that Howard had slain the death of the wraiths was completely silent. Their existence was far too ephemeral to move the air about them and form anything resembling sound. Their numbers being suddenly cut in half was however noticed by the rest of the wraiths and after a moments pause the remaining creatures flew directly at Harry. Harry now had all their attention, how wonderful.

The spell had been an onerous one and even Harry had to take a moment to recover from such a significant expenditure of his magic. As the forms approached him he considered his options. There were likely apparition wards in place so trying to escape that way could end with him badly splinched. Nothing else really occurred to him that could help him escape from six wraiths at once and he was starting to consider more desperate tactics, smashing through and jumping out a window perhaps, when he was reminded why it never hurt to bring backup. A ring of fire formed around him and the wraiths paused at the border. It was a lesser spell that Harry recognized. The fire was a natural one without much actual magic permeating it. It would hurt the Wraiths but cause them no true harm. It did however cause them to pause long enough for a giant fiery turtle to tear all six apart in short violent order. The final shadow motes settled and then faded amidst the flames as the last of the creatures vanished leaving Howard to struggle with the turtle as it tried to turn back on its maker and engulf him. The struggle was short lived and the turtle subdued by superior will before it too vanished. A flick of Harry's wand extinguished the circle around him and he nodded once to Howard. Fiendfyre was the most dangerous form of cursed fire around but it was also undeniably the most effective. Harry had never invested any time in learning to wield the fickle spell but after such an effective demonstration he wondered if perhaps he should make the effort.

Howard spat on the ground before pulling out the now crumpled tactical map only to swear loudly before handing the map over to Harry and then marching onwards towards their goal. A quick glance told Harry all he needed to know before he shoved the map in his pocket and followed behind. Maurice and his team were simply gone. The one corner of the map was now filled with grey splotches as a group of wraith feasted on the remnants of the life force left behind by the now dead wizards. In another corner of the map, the closest to their own position, two blue dots moved inwards with haste. The wraiths that had attacked Thomas had obviously been defeated but at great cost and Harry wondered briefly if the family man who led them was one of the survivors. Only Cindy's team was intact with her group of four bright blue dots moving steadily towards the final confrontation.

The room where the ritual was being held was completely empty of furniture. Dust that collected on the floor in odd patterns made it clear that the room had once been filled with some variety of furniture and short dividing walls but they had either been removed or more likely vanished when the area was re-purposed. One long wall faced directly out the north side of the building and should have let in significant light but like the rest of the building the room still somehow managed to appear dim and gloomy. Facing inward and chanting thirteen witches and wizards cloaked in thick dark robes hovered on the edge of a dark red circle inscribed with precise lines and arcane runes in a pattern that meant nothing to Harry other than very bad news. The circle itself was wet and viscous and he'd have suspected it was drawn in blood even without the bodies lying still in random spots about the room with their remaining blood pooling beneath them. Almost all of the bodies wore robes, though a few wore dresses or mismatched muggle casual wear, and Harry suspected he now knew the fate that had been intended for the two witches he'd rescued the day before.

The dark wizards had their wands turned inward towards the center of the circle where the dark lord himself stood beside a glowing pillar of white light. His voice like those of his followers was raised to a fever pitch and his Latin incantation formed a powerful counterpoint to their measured chanting. He wore traditional black robes just like his followers but unlike them his hood was down and his face clearly visible. He was a tall man. Nothing about him screamed dark lord to Harry. His face was plain and his hair a boring tame sandy brown. If he hadn't been standing in the middle of a blood bath with dark red symbols painted on his cheeks and forehead he'd have been entirely unremarkable.

"No prisoners" Howard murmured to Harry as he raised his wand. There was no need to explain. With six of Howard's aurors dead the dark lord's death warrant had been sealed.

Howard's first spell jumped across the room. It was a dark, writhing pillar of sickly yellow light that engulfed the nearest witch before fading away. She stopped chanting and stood for a moment looking confused and vaguely ill before exploding abruptly apart in a shower of gore that covered the two startled wizards beside her. Two more of the robed figures fell to piercing curses from team two that lanced through their chests while another reacted quickly enough to throw up a broad magical shield that deflected upwards the majority of the force from the bludgeoning curses sent by team three that had been headed at his head as well as that of the witch beside him. A cutting curse from the same direction separated another wizard abruptly from his head. The spell of the final auror reached what was obviously one of the more talented wizards and the target simply caught the glowing blue light on the tip of his wand and batted it away where it continued until it smashed into the nearest window turning a five foot square area of glass into a cloud of dust particles that dispersed into the rain storm beyond.

Harry's own spell had been slightly more insidious. The resulting cloud of yellow noxious gas went unnoticed at first amidst the more attention grabbing spell fire. The cloud settled around a trio of startled followers who found themselves gasping for breath after they inhaled to cast their first spells. Thirty seconds later two of the followers would lie dead and bloated with yellow fumes seeping from between their lips. The third managed to crawl to the edge of the cloud for a breath of fresh air but before she could catch her breath a cutting curse cut a gash half way through her chest and she would bleed to death shortly after.

Things only got worse for the dark lord's followers after the initial volley. The enraged aurors threw a flurry of spells at them made up of magic reinforced with anger and pain. Several of the followers tried to conjure temporary bulwarks of stone to act as crude defenses but they were cut down, blown up, or eviscerated in the crossfire from three different directions before they could manage it. It wasn't long before only the most talented of the followers still stood sliding between curses, batting them aside with the deft touch of a champion dueler. When the opportunity arose he would deflect them back towards one of the group of aurors and force them to defend long enough to earn him some breathing room. Harry would have been impressed if he wasn't too busy being concerned with the activities of the dark lord. The man continued to chant seeming to take no notice of the chaos around him.

What once had been a pillar of light had now flattened and developed corners and from the right angle had begun to look suspiciously like a doorway. Throwing caution to the wind Harry marched out of the cover of the hallway and straight across the room towards the last of the followers. Their hood was knocked off by a near miss with a bludgeoning curse and Harry found himself facing, instead of the man he'd expected, a middle aged witch that could at best be described as handsome. Her curves which had been hidden behind the bulk of a badly sized robe suddenly seemed obvious and he was momentarily thrown as his mind adjusted to the new reality. She stepped towards him, sliding deftly past the next batch of concentrated spell fire. She was obviously smart Harry observed. She'd been keeping herself directly between the circle and the only remaining intact group of aurors which had forced them to hold their spell fire. Sending random magic into an active ritual circle was always a bad idea. All things being equal the most probable outcome was a catastrophic explosion that would kill you, your friends, the wizard or witches casting the ritual, and just about everyone within a a couple of square miles.

When confronted by Harry she contemptuously grinned at him before sending two conjured arrows his way followed by a wave of undulating flame. What this told Harry is that he'd been giving her far too much credit. Harry had learned the hard way that if you're going to try and overwhelm someone with magic you had to make good and sure you didn't send a combination of spells that could be defeated with a single incantation. That was what she had just done and Harry knew just the spell for the occasion.

_Cogere._ The word resonated in Harry's thoughts as he flicked his wand quickly in front of him and punctuated the action with a casual upward sweep. A wave of pure force sped out in front of him knocking the arrows out of the air and pushing the flames right back to whence they came. The look on her face was that of horrified embarrassment which he found a surprising reaction to her own imminent demise. It did however show that she'd recognized her mistake, perhaps in time to have prepared a counter response. A thick semi opaque magical shield formed and the flames vanished where the two came in contact. The shield was far less effective in protecting her from the wave of force however and the witch found herself launched across the room. She bounced off the floor, landed again and then rolled until she finally lay heaving on her back. Sprawled on the floor in front of the broken window she forced herself up and spit out a mouthful of blood. Rolling again despite her injuries she managed to avoid a pair of cutting curses sent at her by the remains of the Thomas' team, and then she casually threw herself out the broken window and into the rain storm beyond. Harry was surprised at the suicidal move from what had seemed a determined opponent. He was less surprised when he heard the crack of a rough apparition moments after she fell out of sight.

"Nice Harry." Cindy congratulated with a wan smile as she walked up to him. She had a small gash on one cheek and her hair was big and frazzled as if she'd been electrocuted but overall both she and her team appeared to be alive and well. He could see their countenances fall as they looked around and noted the complete lack of Maurice and his squad.

Harry soon discovered that Thomas had indeed been one of the two survivors of team two. His partner, a skinny man whose complexion had turned pale and sallow stood beside him and appeared to be struggling not to fall to the ground and start retching. One of his hands was held atop a bleeding wound on his side that looked decidedly unhealthy.

"I need to get Will to the healers." Thomas huffed as he frantically looked around the room. Eying his target he sent a pair of curses into a formation of stones propped up in one dark corner. The stones were pulverized and the haphazard wards they had held up collapsed around them with a visceral sensation as if it was suddenly just the slightest bit easier to breath.

"I'll be fine..." Will began only for Thomas to shush him as he grabbed him around the waist.

"You're right. You will." Thomas responded before briefly eying the rest of them and murmuring. "Good luck."

With a loud pop the pair were gone and the remaining six were left standing outside the still active circle and what was now definitely some kind of doorway.

"This is awkward." Cindy eyed the circle with annoyance before shouting at the dark wizard in the center. "Come out here and let us kill you already!"

"Because that's going to work." Grumped a wizard twice her age, Harry couldn't remember his name, only for his compatriot who's name Harry also couldn't remember to elbow him in the side.

"Got a better idea?" Cindy responded while rolling her eyes.

There were lots of reasons that ritual circles were so rarely used. Yes they could be powerful. Yes they could provide effects unfathomable through the efforts of a single witch or wizard. Unfortunately they were also deadly when subject to even the slightest interference or error in their construction. Harry only knew what he did about them because it had been a ritual Voldemort used to gain his immunity to magic and it had come up often in their research. The best way to deal with an active ritual was to disrupt the wizards on the outside early enough while the matrix of power was still being formed. When this happened the magic simply fell apart, usually eating the ritual participants from the inside out but leaving any bystanders mostly untouched. If you didn't do it soon enough though the ritual began to take on a life of its own. It gained stability and cohesiveness and began to pull in an escalating quantity of magical power all on its own. You could still rip it apart fairly easily but the results at that point were without exception explosive.

"We don't have much choice." Howard replied as he wandered the outside of the circle. "If we try to interfere we'll die, he'll die, and anyone within a couple of city blocks will probably die with us."

Howard pondered for another minute before continuing. His dissatisfaction with what he was about to say evident on his face "We have to let him finish and deal with the results. Cindy - get our own set of apparition wards up. I don't want this bastard running the second the ritual is complete"

Cindy hesitated. "I recognize some of those symbols Howard. Dimensional schism engravings. Power markers."

Howard nodded in acknowledgment and Harry began to wonder just what it was they taught aurors in New York. "Then it could be a greater summoning. A greater demon of some kind. Maybe a lesser god. The power in that thing is phenomenal."

"Bloody hell." Harry commented as he began to see what they were getting at. If their only plan was to let him finish then it might be a very, very bad plan. "I take it greater demons and lesser gods are a bit scary?"

"Shit your pants scary." Cindy replied. "Think the unnatural bastard child of Godzilla and a heliopath."

Harry just stared at her in confusion. He thought he might have heard Dudley mention the name Godzila sometime in the distant past of his childhood but the reference escaped him.

Cindy shook her head at his confusion and Howard took over. "The last known greater demon summoning happened in Italy in and around 1669. It destroyed more than forty towns and over two hundred wizards died trying to stop it. The Italian ministry managed to convince the muggles that it was just the bloody volcano going up again. Then there was a lesser god summoned around a hundred years before that somewhere in China. About a million people died that time before it finally just got bored and went back home. Technically if I had any certainty that this was a greater summoning I'd be obligated to pop that circle and consequences be damned. Nothing is as bad as what could be coming through that doorway. I'd just hate to get all those people killed for nothing if he's got something less suicidal in store for us."

"Bugger." Harry groused. It was time for a new plan. Some things you just didn't take chances with and it sounded like this was one of them. "Time for you to be on your way Howard. You too Cindy."

Cindy whipped her head around from where she'd been studying the room in preparation for laying the requested wards. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'll collapse it inwards." Harry replied lightly. Howard, Cindy, and the remaining trio of aurors stared at him in confusion.

"Grand stander is going to get a lot of people killed." Murmured one of the aurors and Harry turned to glare at him.

"Harry." Howard ventured. The man was squinting at Harry through the monocle and Harry suspected he was checking to make sure he hadn't gotten himself cursed in the preceding conflict. "Ritual circles collapse outwards. They always collapse outwards."

Harry shook his head. "Hermione and I did a mountain of research in some very shady libraries when we were trying to figure out how to stop Voldemort. The trick is to not only pop the magical circle but to penetrate it. You can force your way inside and drag the energies inward with you. It inverts the flow of the energy and instead of exploding outward it implodes."

Cindy fidgeted nervously as she listened to his explanation. "You've done this before?"

Her question was soft and tentative. Harry figured she already knew the answer. He found he was surprisingly at peace with the scenario. The people he'd cared about most were dead. The rest of those who he'd tentatively called friend were an ocean away with more important things on their mind than the fate of Harry Potter. It wouldn't be the first time Harry had marched into certain death, maybe this time he'd finally get it right. "It isn't the kind of thing anyone ever gets to do twice."

Harry turned to address Howard before continuing, "Howard it may not take out a city block but it is still going to destroy the top of this building. So go bugger off. I've got work to do."

"Fuck" Cindy cursed and looked down at her feet. She was somehow even prettier with the look of regret on her face. Or perhaps it was just that Harry new the regret was on his behalf and that lent it extra weight.

"You sure Harry?" Howard asked shortly in his typically gruff voice. "It isn't your place. Don't suppose you can teach me how to do it in five minutes or less?"

"No time. Greater summonings, are they always as bad as you described?" Harry asked. He glanced back at the circle and noted that the portal now somehow appeared to reach twenty feet in the air and stand ten feet wide. It was an impressive effect given that the circle that held it couldn't be more than six feet across and the ceiling was still no taller than fourteen high. There definitely wasn't enough time.

"Worse. Where do you think Atlantis disappeared to?" Howard responded and then pondered a moment. "You sure you can pull it off?"

"Piece of cake." Harry replied lightly.

Howard watched him for another moment and then nodded his head at Harry in respect, before finally turning to the remaining aurors. "Time to go everyone."

The three members of Cindy's teem popped away at her agreeing nod. Howard tipped his hat to Harry and then followed as well with a slightly louder crack. Finally only Cindy remained.

"I was going to show you such a good time tonight." Cindy murmured with a smile.

"You tell me this now?" Harry couldn't keep the grin off his face and she smirked in reply.

"Not too late to change your mind. We don't know for sure that its a greater summoning." He couldn't help but wonder if maybe she'd liked him more than he thought. Either way they were running out of time and there was no telling how long it would take to complete the ritual.

"But it probably is." He stated with conviction. Somewhere near ten million people in New York were standing at ground zero and he couldn't walk away from that.

"Probably." She agreed with a sigh before pulling his head down for a long, intense kiss with a surprising amount of tongue. It was almost enough to get Harry to reconsider his options.

"You just had to be a big fucking hero." She murmured. She kissed him once more on the lips, this time briefly, and then stepped back and pulled out her wand. "See you in the next life Harry Potter."

Then she vanished and Harry was left alone, standing in front of a now glowing blood red circle surrounding an obviously insane dark wizard and a quickly growing portal that looked like it should fill the whole room and yet somehow continued to remain inside that six foot wide circumference.

Harry watched the spot where she had stood for a moment before turning his attention to the matter at hand. The dark lord continued to incant in the middle but he seemed to have noticed that everyone had left except for Harry. He sped up his chant, rushing to finish, perhaps realizing for the first time that his life had just developed an imminent expiration date. Harry simply ignored him. The wanna be dark lord was already dead. All that mattered now was the circle.

"Bollocks." Harry whispered without much conviction and then he walked into the circle with his wand raised and magical energy pooling at its tip.

Imploding a ritual circle, or so Harry had read, wasn't about incantations or wand movements. This was good as it had been several years since Harry had read up on the subject. He'd once anticipated the possibility of catching Voldemort in the midst of casting yet another ritual and ending him that way. It would have been a pyrrhic victory for sure but a victory none the less and, while it hadn't happened that way, the idea and the theory behind it had stuck with him.

Breaching the circle was the easy part. Something purely physical would be stymied at the circles boarder but any incompatible magical energy no matter how weak would disrupt the carefully organized flow of power and pop the containing circle like an over inflated balloon. The trick to reversing the flow was that with enough talent and fortitude you could hold all that power back with just your will and your wand - plugging the puncture point just like the boy who stuck his finger in the dike and held back a flood. Then you gathered your magic, pushed through the puncture, and dragged that balloon in right behind you. This is exactly what Harry did and a great many things occurred within in a very short span of time.

The first was that the ritual reached completion. Harry destabilized the circle at almost the exact moment the doorway finished forming. It reached hundreds of feet above them and spanned a width greater than that of the great hall of Hogwarts. Of course it still fit within that six foot wide circle under a fourteen foot ceiling. Magic was funny that way sometimes.

The flows reversed exactly as Harry intended and even as a monstrous creature of madness and flame tried to step through the breach between worlds the doorway first changed directions and then fractured. The elder god was ripped apart and torn from existence in a brief moment of titanic opposing forces. It had been a creature so old and so hungry that no wizard or man on Earth could have stood against it but instead it died somewhere between here and there, sometime between moments of now and then, and its passing went unremarked and unobserved.

Finally the circle finished collapsing and all the energy Harry was dragging behind him rushed inwards towards the now sickly red and green portal.

Outside on the sidewalk a group of trench coat clad aurors stood and watched as the entire top half of the office building simply vanished. There was no explosion, no conflagration of fire, instead it was simply there one moment and gone in the next. Howard tipped his hat to the vacant space. Cindy wiped away a few tears. Then the group of aurors turned and apparated away.

The cover up took surprisingly little effort. The building had already had enough aversion charms around it that the muggles never even noticed when half of it disappeared. Howard's superiors had been shocked to learn that he'd gotten an English national treasure killed but they hadn't held it against him. Each of them knew how much worse the entire affair could have gone and many a wizard in the American ministry would raise a toast to the foreign wizard that night. Howard certainly did. He raised several toasts in fact and ended up very thoroughly drunk. Then he picked up a young witch who was impressed by his scars and tales of daring-do and went about keeping himself thoroughly distracted from recent events.

Cindy went ahead and had that drink of firewhiskey but she had it alone, sitting in her apartment, giving herself an evening to mourn the man she'd known so briefly. The next day she'd get up and put it aside. But she would always remember fondly the handsome wizard with an English accent who'd blushed when she flirted with him

A month later word would finally reach England of how Harry Potter had died but as the country was embroiled in a muggle born and half blood rebellion at the time few took any immediate notice. Years in the future the history books would one day agree that Harry Potter had been a wizard born to strife and that he had died as he had spent most of his short life, fighting and saving lives. He would become the example of what a Gryffindor should aspire to be for generations to come. If Harry had been around to hear the stories he would have undoubtedly been horrified.

Of course the history books were written by wizards. Worse they were written by British wizards and they in particular were not well known for thoroughly checking their facts. If they had been a bit more thorough then perhaps they might have realized that none of them really had any idea what they were talking about.

Authors Notes :

My thanks to anyone who took the time to give the story a read and made it to the end of the first chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.

I'll say up front that I make no guarantees that this story will be finished. I hope to finish it of course – I've written and filled out most of an outline spanning 21 chapters so that is certainly my intention. However if I continue as I have begun that's some where near a quarter of a million words which is, well, a whole lot of words. I haven't even started the second chapter so expect them to be slow in coming. Chapter one feels to me almost like a complete story in itself so I went ahead and published it despite that voice in the back of my head insisting I should write at least five chapters before I consider posting anything.

I will say up front that this will not be rehashing of the plot of dragon age with Harry as the protagonist. Think big boulder dropped in a little pond and you'll get a good feeling for the kind of impact he's going to have on Thedas and not all it will be for the better.

Reviews would be awesome. Honest criticism is accepted as long as you aren't trying to roast me to a crisp with flames. I wouldn't spend too much time making suggestions on how the story should carry out though because, as mentioned earlier, the outline is already fairly complete and I have a firm picture in my head of how events will transpire.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer : Anything you read here that comes from the Harry Potter books is not mine. If it comes from the Dragon Age games then it also isn't mine.

Note : Canon up to and including book 5 of Harry Potter is observed. Anything after that is for the most part ignored.

2013/08/26 – Minor edits, mostly stupid mistakes and a couple of tweaked sentences.

**Chapter 2 :**

The dark lord lay on the floor with his neck bent at a sharp unnatural angle. His eyes, brown ones apparently, stared blankly upwards and all Harry could think was that he really should have taken the time to ask what the bastard's name was. Why Harry and the dark lord hadn't both been vaporized when the circle imploded was a mystery but Harry had long ago given up looking too closely at near death experiences so he just chalked it up to typical good fortune. It was his good fortune anyway – the dark lord's arrival had involved a high speed impact against a wall with his head bravely leading the charge and the results had been both predictable and really not all that fortunate. Coming second, and right on the dark lord's heels, Harry had in turn been thrown head first into the dark lord who then proved that he did have at least one redeeming quality. His corpse had made for a surprisingly serviceable cushion.

After Harry had finished catching his breath and taken a second to roll the unmoving wizard off of himself he had stood up, kicked the dark lord a few times just to make good and sure he wasn't faking, and then finally taken a look at his new surroundings. Unfortunately he'd been quickly if reluctantly forced to the conclusion that he was no longer in New York. It wasn't a hard one to draw. Harry may not be a native but even he knew that New Yorkers weren't big on living in caves.

It was admittedly a very nice cave. It was large, and round, and perhaps a third the size of a quidditch pitch. Oddly while the floor and the first ten feet of wall were made of smoothly cut stones above that arched the more rugged formation of a natural cavern. Scattered around the outside of the room were ugly three foot tall decorative stone containers interspersed with brightly burning torches. There was also a series of slightly raised platforms of dubious purpose spread out symmetrically in front of the two opposing unbroken walls, each of them large enough for a man to stand on but all strangely vacant.

What wasn't so nice was the pit, filling at least half of the cavern, which sat in the middle of the chamber looking suspiciously bottomless. The yawning abyss isolated one small platform from the rest of the chamber and it was there that he and the dark lord had made their landing, mere feet from what was undoubtedly a very long drop. There were only two entrances one of which was on the far side of the gaping chasm and, conveniently, one leading away from the platform in the opposite direction.

Harry hadn't spent long in his perusal before deciding that, fascinating as the odd locale was, he really had better places to be. There was an attractive blond witch and a bottle of firewhiskey waiting for him that he really needed to get back to and the archaic scenery wasn't exactly inviting. So, of course, he went with the most convenient form of exit and tried to apparate.

Apparition, the preferred method of travel for wizards everywhere, let them vanish from one place and appear in the next with little more than a bit of concentrated magic. Convenient as it was, it did have its downsides. For example, the sensation of travel strongly resembled that of being squeezed through a very long straw which, while not painful, was still quite unpleasant. Worse, an unfocussed wizard faced the very real possibility of leaving something important behind like a nose, or a finger, or even a lung. More relevantly if the wizard in question was either unknowingly under the blanket of hostile wards or much too far away for his magic to reach ahead to his desired destination then it would rebound violently and leave the traveller standing right where he'd started but now with an unpleasant pounding sensation in his head.

Harry had first tried to make his way to New York. Afterwards he had sat on the floor for a while, trying to keep his head from coming apart, and hoping he was just under some effective wards. When the pain subsided he had tried for Hogsmeade in Scotland which had only left him feeling even worse than the first attempt. In desperation he had tried one last time and aimed instead for a small town in France only to collapse on the ground whimpering as he waited for his brains to stop oozing out of his ears. So much, he had thought upon his recovery, for the firewhiskey.

Harry gave himself several moments to indulge in a good bout of pointless self pity. It only felt fair. When he was done with that he reluctantly decided that perhaps he should focus on the good bit, the part where he somehow wasn't dead. If he just kept looking at it from that angle then things really didn't seem quite so dire. Resigned to his situation, Harry decided to have a good rifle through the dark lord's pockets.

What Harry discovered was that when you were trying to tear down the walls between realities you apparently travelled light. In a small money pouch the dark lord had about ten galleons, five sickles, and a dozen copper knuts as well as two more sickles and three knuts in loose spare change. Not exactly a fortune and perhaps proof that being a dark lord wasn't the highly rewarding career choice that it was billed to be. Harry had also acquired one slightly used wand made of cherry wood, several books of varying size, and a half dozen sticks of Wrigley's spearmint gum.

The wand went in one of Harry's pockets along with the three others he'd confiscated during the war and held onto in case of emergency. He doubted he'd ever find a use for any of them but he had no idea when he'd next see a wand shop and it certainly didn't hurt to have another spare. What surprised him was that any self respecting dark lord would carry around a wand made of cherry wood but then again, considering where he'd housed his evil lair, it was obvious that self respect hadn't been one of his priorities.

The books had been hidden in a pocket with a mildly enlarged interior and for the most part they were labelled with interesting titles like "Curse, Curse, and Curse them some more." and "How to curse your enemies down to the seventh generation." Apparently he'd been the kind of dark lord not afraid of holding a grudge. Some kind of book on dimensional theory was a bit more interesting but the gem in the collection was the small, plain, leather bound journal filled with what was undoubtedly the dark lord's own hand writing.

A quick glance showed pages upon pages of notes that appeared to go over in detail every aspect of the aborted ritual. Harry blanched when the first of the relevant passages revealed that the dark lord had, in fact, been trying to summon an elder god right into the middle of New York. He stemmed an instinctive moment of panic by reminding himself that it hadn't happened, the dark lord had failed and the elder god in question was probably sitting at home pouting about having the door slammed in its face. At least it implied that he hadn't imploded the circle for nothing. The journal, along with all the books, went into the pocket where he normally only kept his galleons. If he threw them in with the rest of the books he'd probably never be able to find them again.

The gum got tossed into the pit. So did the corpse. He considered saying a few words in ceremonial farewell but wrote it off as a bad idea. They wouldn't have been very polite words anyway. With no other immediate concerns Harry took off his robe for a minute and gave himself a further going over. He stretched a few times to make sure the ache in his muscles wasn't anything to worry about and patted himself down but turned up nothing worse than some bruises. Harry did notice that he was now freezing without the temperature regulation charms embedded into the inner fabric of his robes and he considered that somewhat ominous as an hour prior it had been the middle of summer.

When he was again wrapping himself in his robes his eyes were drawn to the silver deputy badge Howard had forced on him which was still shining brightly on his chest. He was about to remove it when he recalled that he also had something else of Howard's and that it might prove to be a bit more relevant. Forgetting about the badge he reached into his pocket and pulled out one slightly crumpled piece of parchment.

Harry had very little idea how the tactical parchment actually worked. Howard had spent quite a bit of time bragging about what it could do but very little explaining how it managed it. It would probably be useless to him as mapping the office building had required a series of rune stones laid out around the building exterior. On the other hand Howard had briefly mentioned something about the map hacking into preexisting heavily warded areas and while he'd been sketchy on the details he still figured it was worth a shot. So Harry flattened it out, gave it a moment, and was pleasantly surprised when the invisible quill began sketching an oddly narrow structure.

Five chambers of varying size lay in roughly a straight path, each connected only to the chamber beside it. One end appeared to have an entrance that led outside the wards while the last chamber was a dead end. Several purple dots and one brown formed in the last chamber while Harry's own dot, now blue, appeared against the closest wall in the one next to it. When it was finished drawing the parchment hesitated a moment before finally pulling a name for the location out of the ether and the title 'Andraste's Tomb' inked itself ominously across the top of the page.

Harry really only had three choices as to his next action. He could stay where he was but that was a bit useless and Harry had never been the type to wait and hope for a rescue. He could head towards the entrance in the first chamber though he of course had no idea what would be waiting for him outside. Finally he could proceed inwards and see if whoever those purple dots belonged to were willing to talk and judging by the muffled shouting he'd been hearing for several minutes he was guessing the answer to that question was going to be yes.

* * *

When Harry got his first look at the motley group he figured this wasn't exactly their home away from home either. The stone hall in which they had gathered was narrower than the great hall of Hogwarts by half but appeared to be nearly as long. At the far end a set of steps rose to a circular raised dais and in the centre of that dais stood the statue of a vaguely defined woman with one hand hidden from view and the other raised palm upward and cradling an actual burning flame. Two towering stone soldiers stood eternal watch over her from either side of the dais, their spears held tightly in their fists and were presumably meant to look ready to skewer any one who didn't pay her the proper respect. The rooms occupants had gathered across the steps and, preoccupied as they were, none took immediate notice of Harry's entrance.

"Be done with it warden, we will hardly miss her company." The biting admonishment came from a severe dark haired woman situated half way up the stairs. She was pretty, her features sharp and well placed, her moderate length hair well tamed, but something about her expression was dark and unfriendly in a way that didn't invite admiration. Her top was little more than a strategically placed piece of purple cloth looped around her neck and draped across her chest. A black leather skirt hung low on her hips, emphasizing her lithe figure and leaving the top of her hips bare. One arm was naked while the other was covered completely in a long black sleeve topped with an accessory on her shoulder that seemed to be trying to grow wings. To complete the costume she held in her hands a ridiculously tall gnarled stick upon which was mounted a red glowing crystal the size of a large fist.

The man whose back she was addressing was six feet tall and stood on the dais itself wearing an actual suit of gleaming plate mail armour the likes of which Harry had never seen outside of the halls of Hogwarts. Even there the only examples he'd ever crossed paths with had been standing empty guard over the students or adorning the animated figures which frequented the ancient portraits. The set this man wore seemed bulkier than those he recalled and its thick overlapping plates of silver embossed steel were most likely impenetrable to any physical assault that didn't involve a sizable battering ram. Standing at the very top of the stairs and facing completely away from Harry all that was visible of his head was a plain, mismatched, curving helmet of obviously lesser quality.

"Give it to me Leliana. Remember who I am." The man's confident voice also sounded harsh and angry. He held a long, ornate, deadly looking sword and it was pointed at the woman he was addressing with the clear intent to use it. On the other arm he wore a large shield the shape of a rounded kite and like the raven-haired woman his voice carried the slightest taste of Harry's homeland.

Leliana, as the man had named her, stood in front of the stone statue with a small urn made of pottery cradled protectively against her left side. She was young with straight, crimson hair that framed her face, and the aristocratic beauty of her features was marred only by her horrified expression of disbelief. She was dressed in tight leather pants and wearing a brown shirt confined underneath a strange thick leather coat. In her free hand she held a sword of her own but it was dwarfed by the one being wielded against her. Harry could just make out what appeared to be a bow and quiver peeking over her shoulders but with her hands full they would do her little good. Judging from the way she held the urn he doubted she would be putting it down any time soon.

"I once thought you were a man I could be proud to stand beside but how quickly I discovered I was wrong." Her voice was melodic and when she spoke the hint of France in her accent was undeniable. "You take what you want and leave no prisoners and in the name of the Maker I just stood by and watched. I was wrong to do so and this, this I will not let you get away with."

Despite the defiant tone in her dulcet voice her eyes held the torn acceptance of someone who knew with surety that they were about to die. Harry had seen that look before, sometimes when staring in a mirror, and he decided that he might just have to do something about it.

Another man was there as well but he seemed content to watch in silence from the foot of the steps. He was a massive figure with dark skin and braided white hair and Harry immediately suspected there must be a giant somewhere in his family tree. He waited impassively in shirt and pants of small interlocking metal rings and held against his shoulder a sword as wide as one of Harry's hands and probably a few inches longer than Harry was tall. The argument didn't seem to concern him as he waited for the woman to finish. Harry suspected from his lack of expression that the giant would not only be willing to kill Leliana but that he wouldn't feel anything when he did so.

The final member of the group was a huge brown furred hound which Harry supposed explained the brown dot that had been represented on the tactical parchment. Fortunately he seemed too busy sniffing at a suspicious spot of muck near one of the stone guards to notice Harry. The monstrous animal looked almost big enough to maul a small bear.

"This has to be done. Do you really want to die for a piece of pottery?" The man in plate mail tried one last time but Leliana stood resolute.

"Be done with it warden I grow weary." When the giant man finally spoke it was in a deep uninterested voice. "If you mean to kill her then kill her and let us be on our way."

Leliana's head turned and her eyes widened, perhaps realizing for the first time what Harry had known as soon as he walked in the room. None of these people would stand with her.

"Sten? Will my death truly mean so little in your eyes?" Leliana asked the giant with dismay.

"Dead. Alive. Your fate has little importance in my journey. If you are to die then you should be quick about it and hinder us no longer." Sten, as Harry gathered he was named, gave his reply without inflection.

"I agree with the Sten. The chantry wench wastes our time. Send her to join her precious maker and let us be on our way," the raven haired woman drawled.

"What you intend is blasphemy!" Leliana turned away from the unsympathetic ears of the two companions to face again the warden. "If you do this..."

She didn't get the chance to finish the sentence. Light flashed off the steal of his sword as the man Sten had called warden swept it suddenly towards her neck. The attack was so quick and abrupt that it was over before Harry could react. The woman saved herself by reflexively throwing all her weight backwards. She half fell against the statue and the blade passed harmlessly over her but, unwilling to drop the bulky urn, she was forced to stop the following blow awkwardly with her own sword. It was a direct impact pitting her strength against his and with a resounding clash of steal the lesser blade was knocked from her grasp and off the dais to the floor below. The fight paused, over before it had truly begun, and Leliana made no move to escape. Instead she cradled the urn and looked up as the warden slowly raised his sword as if giving her one last chance to change her mind.

Leliana sighed and Harry could see the will to fight fade away. She had resigned herself to what she believed was her fate and even in defeat, she did not beg or plead. Neither did she hand over the mysterious urn in an attempt to buy her survival. Instead she held it all the closer and began to chant, her soft voice echoing clearly throughout the room in a measured cadence somewhere between speech and song. "O Maker, hear my cry : Guide me through the blackest nights."

The warden paused to listen though Harry couldn't tell what motivated him to stay his hand.

"Typical," the raven haired woman complained quietly in disgust. She turned away from the scene and stumbled as her eyes lit upon Harry. He was now standing only a dozen feet from the bottom of the steps, wand held ready in his hand and a spell on his lips. He decided that from now on, lacking her name, he'd simply refer to her in his head as 'the bitch'. It would simplify things greatly. The bitch's mouth opened and closed a couple of times in confusion and Harry couldn't help but smirk at her befuddlement.

"Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked. Make me to rest in the warmest places. O Creator, see me kneel : For I walk only where You would bid me. Stand only in places You have blessed. Sing only the words You place in my throat. My Maker..." When Leliana reached the third verse the Warden's patience had apparently run dry and he brought his sword down one last time with cold murderous intent.

Or at least that's what he meant to do. Harry, figuring that some intervention was long over due, summoned the blade and yanked it out of the warden's hands with a quick verbal incantation. "Accio!"

Having no desire to impale himself he let go of the charm fairly quickly. The sword flew about five feet and then, it fell, crashing abruptly and loudly to the stairs. The rest of the colourful cast joined the bitch in her surprise as they all finally took note of Harry's presence.

"Hello everyone," Harry greeted sombrely. The dog sniffed the air and growled a bit while the scantily clad bitch scowled and hefted her odd stick and the warden scrambled to retrieve his sword. Harry couldn't help but note that it was apparently hard to bend over when wearing a giant tin can. The one called Sten simply watched with his trademark lack of expression. While the rest were distracted Leliana slowly returned to her feet, her chant forgotten, and carefully slipped a slim dagger out of one of her boots.

"Now, I'm sorry to interrupt your murder and mayhem." Harry paused dramatically in consideration. "Actually, you know what? I'm not sorry in the slightest. In fact I'm much inclined to start cursing the lot of you. I'm fairly sure I already know who I should start with but I figured I ought to at least give you a chance to convince me otherwise. I'd really hate to eviscerate the wrong person."

Harry's eyes wandered from face to incredulous face waiting for a reaction.

"You do not belong here," intoned Sten finally and Harry wondered what it would take to get an emotional response from him.

"You have no idea, mate," replied Harry. He was beginning to suspect that he was much further from home than he'd previously imagined.

The warden had by this point retrieved his sword. Noting Leliana trying to discreetly put the statue between herself and her assailants he raised just one finger in warning. She stopped moving, apparently interpreting the gesture as an implied threat that their abrupt cease fire could come to an equally sudden end. Her gaze moved from the warden to Harry and he could see the slightest renewal of hope in her eyes.

Then the warden turned to Harry and for the first time his face became clearly visible. He had the kind of clean good looks that you generally saw in muggle movie stars and rarely in real life. He had well defined cheek bones and what Harry supposed would be referred to as a chiseled jaw. His nose had been broken at some point and healed slightly crooked but the imperfection only seemed to add character. His hair was mostly hidden by the helm but a few dark brown strands escaped to lie sweatily on his forehead. His expression was cold, arrogant, and hard, and showed not the slightest remorse for what he had been about to do.

"You're not from Haven," the warden stated flatly.

"No. I'm not from Haven," Harry replied though he suspected the question had been somewhat rhetorical. "And where would that be exactly? I'm actually a bit lost at the moment."

The warden and the bitch shared a sceptical look and Leliana's brief optimism faded as she took in his apparel. He wasn't quite sure what about his appearance would disappoint her. His robes were stylish and made of dragon hide, a material guaranteed to slow down even the nastiest of hexes. He held a wand in his hand, a pretty potent weapon given his not inconsiderable talent for violent magic. He had pretty much everything he needed for a last second rescue operation. Regardless, whatever she saw in him apparently convinced her that he was not the ally she required and she turned to plead with the warden.

"Please. Let him leave. He has no part in this." It took a moment for Harry to realize that she'd gone from facing certain death to begging for a stranger's life after which she probably expected to yet again find herself facing certain death. If Harry hadn't already been pretty sure he knew who the villains of the piece were that probably would have cleared it right up.

"No part? I think not my warden." The bitch eyed Harry with suspicion as she talked. "Here he stands witness at the end of the gauntlet where none before have passed. T'is perhaps another test? He wrested your sword from you with little effort so it is towards magic where his talents lay. Unaided he may be but with magic one is never truly unarmed."

She obviously didn't know much about magic if she didn't recognize a wand when it was waved in front of her. He had to wonder what her part was in that case and considered that perhaps she just went around hitting people with that odd stick of hers.

"Either way he's a witness," the warden muttered and then turned back towards Leliana before shouting loudly over his shoulder. "Mutt... chew his face off!"

That, Harry thought, sounded needlessly unpleasant. It also sounded like a horrible name for a huge man eating dog. He backed away quickly from the steps and raised his wand. On one hand the dog was trying to kill him but on the other it wasn't exactly Mutt's fault that his master was a complete and utter shite. With no time to debate he let his instincts guide him and sent the one and only stunner he expected to use in the upcoming fight.

The red beam of light left his wand, flew straight and true, and impacted with the quickly accelerating beast when it was still at least eight feet away. Mutt collapsed in mid step like a puppet with its string cut and slid across the floor to finish up lying almost directly at Harry's feet. He took a moment to gently nudge the slumbering beast with one boot. Mutt, he decided, probably wasn't getting up any time soon.

Harry looked up in time to see Leliana slide gracefully around the statue, avoiding a swing of the daunting weapon the warden wielded. She threw her dagger at him in response and it miraculously slid between an invisible gap in his armour and embedded itself to the hilt between two metal plates, deep in the shoulder of his shield arm. The warden cried out and stumbled.

When Mutt fell Sten finally decided to enter the fray, roaring loudly and charging towards Harry with his weapon raised over his head. Harry suspected the man had assumed the hound would take care of Harry with a minimum of fuss as he had been surprisingly slow to react. He made, Harry had to concede, for a very imposing sight and some people might even have found it a bit intimidating. On the upside it took some work to get that much mass moving so Harry had plenty of time to slash his wand and send a cutting curse directly at Sten's chest. He was understandably more than a bit upset when it bounced off his chain link armour, deflected into the stairs, and carved completely through a section of stone bannister.

"Bugger," Harry swore.

Butchery with giant utensils had once been a staple of muggle combat and at the time wizards had learned magic specifically intended for such barbaric encounters. Unfortunately for Harry that part of the defence curriculum at Hogwarts had been cut in and around the time of his birth. Some enterprising wizards had finally noticed that muggle preference had shifted towards pistols, shot guns, and atom bombs and suggested that perhaps a change in curriculum might not be a bad idea.

But lacking the proper education he was still a wizard and wizards, as a rule, were flexible. If a curse couldn't get through that armour he was pretty sure he knew more than a few things that would. Harry first began the wand motion to conjure some chains around Sten's ankles planning to buy himself some time. It wasn't normally a spell that he bothered with and the chains wouldn't last for long, but they didn't really need to. He flicked his wand twice and was half way through the twirl when he was struck by a bolt of lightening.

The experience was just about as pleasant as Harry would have expected if he'd ever stopped to anticipate such an event. His muscles locked up, his stomach clenched unpleasantly, and he toppled stiffly to the ground. He lay there for a moment, twitching, as his mind spun in confused circles. He was inside. There wasn't a cloud in the ceiling. He'd also just been hit by lightening. That probably meant magic. He wondered why no one had ever taught him that particular spell as it really sounded completely brilliant. The spasms waned and he realized his arm was again responding to his wishes. It was even nicer when a moment later his eyes stopped rolling uncontrollably in their sockets or so he thought right up until they landed on the sword wielding giant about to cut him in two.

Still disoriented, vibrating, prone on the floor, and not at all coherent, Harry in that moment couldn't really remember very many spells. In fact he couldn't remember any spells at all. Not being the kind of wizard who gave up no matter how dire the circumstances Harry pointed his wand and tried desperately to form some kind of coherent defence What came to him in that desperate moment was something so basic, so fundamental to his Hogwarts education, that even the firestorm in his head couldn't take it completely from him. The magic issued forth was directed haphazardly by what little will he had remaining and an instant later the giant sized butcher's knife that Sten was swinging down upon him was replaced by an equally giant stick with a large bright red bulge at one end.

It wasn't even remotely close to Harry's best work. The giant matchstick descending towards his head would certainly crush him as easily as the obscene example of a sword would have split him in two. Either way he was still about to die. Worse, if any of his enemies ever found out how Harry Potter had snuffed it they'd probably laugh their asses off. Maybe he'd get lucky and Sten would drop his body in the bottomless pit with the dark lord and then keep the circumstances of his shameful end to himself.

Harry was a bit surprised when he realized that his death was taking entirely too long. His mind began to feel a little less muddled and he noted that instead of beating him to death Sten had instead frozen in mid swing. The giant man stood staring for several moments at his weapon in abject horror. Then he stumbled, dropped the giant matchstick, and began screaming. Finding it odd that this was what finally got a true emotional reaction from the man Harry nevertheless didn't spend much time questioning his good fortune. He took a moment, tried to recall how to cast a bludgeoning hex, and then after it came back to him carefully aimed one at Sten's very large and very unprotected noggin. From that distance Harry really couldn't have missed if he'd tried.

Sten promptly collapsed. He also stopped screaming, which was good because while it had been a manly scream it had still been really bloody loud. He noticed in passing that, oddly enough, Sten was still breathing even after taking a bludgeoning curse strong enough to fracture the average wizard's skull. Shaking off the last effects of the lighting bolt Harry forced himself back to his feet and took a look around to see just where events now stood.

Two different problems caught his attention at the same time. The first was that Leliana had some how managed to end up sprawled across the stairs and the warden stood gesticulating with his sword in the air above her. He still had a dagger in his shoulder but it hadn't stemmed his enthusiasm and Harry was fairly sure he was either taunting her or giving her yet one more chance to rethink her choices. Either way Harry unfortunately didn't have much time to dwell on the matter.

The reason for that was the second problem he'd noticed which happened to be a huge green glowing boulder that vaguely resembled a closed fist. It also happened to be flying straight towards him. A faint hazy trail of green smoke extended backwards from it reaching all the way across the room to the coldly smirking bitch. She had long since descended the steps while Harry was distracted and was holding her over sized walking stick firmly in front of her with a two handed grip. That, Harry decided, probably answered the question of where the lightening had come from.

Wizards don't really use all that many different magical shields. The most basic is a protego which was easy to learn, quick to cast, and if you kept pumping magic into it then it could be maintained indefinitely. Additionally it absorbed and dispersed the incoming spells so you didn't risk taking out your mate standing beside you with a rebound. Unfortunately it also caved pretty quickly under any sufficiently powerful curse. The basic rule of thumb was that if you were forced to shield, and you didn't know what the incoming spell was, then you didn't use a protego. Fortunately for Harry he had always paid attention when studying defence because the incoming glowing boulder would have caved a protego like an over-ripe tomato.

"Reflectum," Harry intoned and he shaped his magic with a violent swish and stab motion an instant before the fist would have crushed into him.

A slightly less used spell, reflectum attempted to protect a wizard using a more efficient approach. It formed a curved magical matrix in front of the wizard that attempted to bounce the majority of the incoming spell safely away. Any magic left, magic that the spell hadn't been able to deflect, it would then absorb and distribute in a manner much like that of the protego. The largest down side to the spell was that it was nearly impossible to target the rebound and consequently you were just as likely to send the remains of the curse at your friends as you were at your enemies. That said Harry and Ron had once spent an entire afternoon practising reflectum with stinging hexes just for the fun of it and Harry'd always had really good aim.

The spell impacted the shield in a violent discharge of glowing green light. A reflected remnant of the curse, now distorted and resembling a giant radioactive mutant pigmy puff, flew off on at an angle towards its eventually destination. Of the remaining magic half was effectively absorbed and dispersed before the reflectum finally overloaded and collapsed amidst a fractured cloud of dark blue magical energy. What remained, the most important bit as far as Harry was concerned, sailed straight ahead on it's original trajectory and smashed into his chest with all the subtlety of a raging hippogriff. He had only a brief moment of lucidity while flying backwards through the air towards yet another unyielding stone wall to wonder which higher power he'd pissed off enough to suffer through such a ridiculously horrible day.

Harry hit the wall, hard, and unfortunately he'd left his dark lord corpse cushion some where down a bottomless pit.

* * *

"Please wake up." The words were the second thing that registered through the darkness. The first had been the pounding hammer trying to beat its way out of his head. Harry hadn't suffered a hang over so bad since Ron's funeral after which he and Neville had headed back to Grimmauld place and polished off the better part of three bottles of firewhiskey. It was only thanks to their superior wizard constitutions that they hadn't drunk themselves to death that night. He remembered that Cindy had wanted to go out for a firewhiskey but, then again, hadn't she promised him "such a good time". That sounded very much like she had meant sex. Why had they gotten so drunk if they were going to have sex? God, he really hoped she'd taken advantage of him because otherwise this could turn out to be very embarrassing.

"Merde." He vaguely recognized that something was being poured into his mouth. He hoped it wasn't more firewhiskey he was drunk enough already. Someone coughed in the distance.

"No! You must drink it. It does you no good to wear it." Wearing firewhiskey did indeed sound like a bit of a waste so when more was poured into his mouth he reluctantly did his best to swallow it down.

The ache in his head vanished immediately. He suddenly had arms and legs again and he couldn't believe that he'd forgotten all about them. Harry had always considered having arms and legs pretty bloody important. He had eyes too he remembered so on a whim he decided to try opening them. He was surprised to find the visage of a lovely stranger hovering over him.

She was really quite beautiful he decided. She had hair like fire and her features managed to be both delicate and strong at the same time. Her bright blue eyes were wet and her cheek was smeared with blood but she somehow made it work for her. That she was smiling down at him didn't hurt either. Still, after a few moments of confusion Harry finally sussed out just what it was that was wrong with her.

"You're not Cindy." The words came out in a muddled slur but that was normal after excessive quantities of Fire-whisky.

"I'm afraid not. One more my brave deputy." Before he could object she shoved the tip of a small vile of cherry red liquid into his mouth and poured the entire batch straight down his throat. He swallowed instinctively, it was either that or choke, and a moment later the fractured pieces of his mind slammed together.

"Bloody Hell!" She sat back, startled at the invective, and Harry pushed himself up quickly to lean against the wall. He'd hit the wall. He remembered that now. He'd hit the wall really bloody hard. "Bitch."

At Leliana's affronted look he quickly corrected himself. "Not you. The woman throwing around lightning bolts and giant green left jabs. Good potion by the way."

"You may admire the potion at your leisure once we are far away from here. I do not know how long it will be until they rise and I suspect they will not underestimate you so twice." It took him a moment to understand who she was referring to. The dog was still unconscious on the floor which wasn't really a surprise, a point blank stunner was nothing to mess about with. The giant also lay on the floor, the over sized matchstick still beside him, and his chest continued to rise and fall without difficulty despite the fact that his skull ought to be in about a dozen pieces.

The witch, given that she'd wiped the floor with him it didn't seem polite to continue thinking of her as 'the bitch', was lying face down with the hilt of a dagger sticking out of the centre of her back. Unlike the first two her injury appeared quite fatal so she probably wasn't about to get back up any time soon. Then again that's what everyone had assumed about Voldemort and where exactly had that gotten them? Finishing out the set the warden lay in a slump half way up the stairs. Harry could only assume that his reflected spell had hit its mark.

"Is he still..." Harry nodded at the form of the warden. The slightly dented tin can he wore made it hard to tell.

"Still alive thank the Maker," Leliana sighed and Harry turned to her with a skeptically raised eyebrow.

"He was trying to take your head off not..." Harry paused as he tried to get his bearings. "How long was I out for?"

"Several minutes only. As for the warden." The look of disgust on her face was genuine so Harry was sure it wasn't some misplaced affection that had kept her from finishing him off. "I believe the Maker still has a part for that one to play. It is not my place to decide his fate."

Harry pushed himself slowly to his feet and found that he felt surprisingly good all things considered. Leliana stood as well, one hand outstretched to support him if he stumbled but he managed without much difficulty. Harry nodded his head to the witch. "And her fate?"

"She would have killed us both had I hesitated. One does not take chances with a witch." She paused to gather up the small urn which had been previously sitting on the floor. "She and Marcus were lovers. We must be far from here before he awakes. Come, my deputy."

"Right." He took a few steps with a bit of trepidation but his legs held. His wand had rolled a few feet away and he picked it up, checking it over and finding with relief that it had survived unscathed. Leliana turned to walk towards the only entrance to the room and Harry took a moment to admire the rear view. "Don't you want your knife?"

"The dagger is not mine and I believe it only fair that it be reunited with its owner." Leliana looked briefly over her shoulder and smirked. "As I cannot return it in the manner I would prefer I believe this will have to suffice. I think he shall have no trouble finding it."

Leliana turned back towards the entrance to the room and Harry made a mental note for the future. This was not a woman you pissed off lightly. She stopped near Sten's sprawled form and stared at the giant matchstick that lay by his side.

"Is that..." She began the question hesitantly. "Was that truly once his sword?"

"I was actually aiming to turn it into something a bit smaller," He admitted with chagrin. "Not my best work."

"I have never seen the like from any mage. One thing into another. It was cleverly done but also very cruel." Harry's lack of comprehension must have shown on his face. "Surely you realized..."

"I just wanted to get rid of the sword," Harry responded slowly but he was starting to see where this was leading. "Does this have something to do with the way he went completely nutters?"

"A Qunari warrior is given one sword in his lifetime and he believes that the sword is the embodiment of his soul. Before he joined us he fell in battle and his sword was stolen. When he awoke he was driven to such madness by its absence that he butchered the family which found him down to the last child. For his sword to turn into a stick before his very eyes..." She shook her head and the sympathy was clear on her face. "I cannot imagine the horror. Can you turn it back? I fear what he will do if he awakens otherwise."

"He murdered an entire family? Then you brought him with you?" To Harry that sounded much like asking a death eater to watch your back.

"It is a long and complicated story and time is short." She admitted softly. "His sword? Please? While I regret his actions of those here only the warden and the witch had any true malice in their hearts."

"It will turn back on its own," Harry stated. Pleased with the response Leliana smiled and turned again for the entrance apparently expecting Harry to follow. He did of course, musing on the contradiction as he walked. Her vindictiveness concerning the warden and the witch contrasted drastically with the care she'd shown towards Sten and he wasn't sure what to make of it. He took one look back at the giant matchstick and finished the sentence with a muttered. "Eventually."

They walked in silence to the chamber where Harry had first arrived, Leliana preoccupied with her thoughts and Harry unsure which of his questions to ask first. When they reached the small platform she narrowed her eyes and stared incredulously at the gaping pit before them.

"No," She began. The statement was followed by what sounded like some very unfriendly words in her native tongue. In a fit of pique she kicked a small stone into the void before them and it fell, quickly and silently, far down into the depths of the earth. She calmed down after a moment and considered the walls of the chamber. "Perhaps I can climb around the outside. "

"Hold on." Harry could make a guess at what was missing but if they needed to get to the other side he had a far safer option. Reaching deep into one of his pockets he let his thoughts drift to his firebolt. He remember its smooth shaft and its finely shaped bristles and a moment later felt the sturdy handle of his favourite broom nestle solidly into his hand. Then he pulled it out.

"Where did... how did you... Maker's breath that is not possible." Leliana glanced between the broom and the robes incredulously. "How could you possibly fit an entire broom in such a small pocket?"

Harry held the firebolt level with the ground and nodded in satisfaction when the levitation charms kicked in and kept it solidly in place. Throwing one leg over the shaft and feeling the magic of the top quality racing broom hum beneath him he turned and smirked at her. "They're bigger on the inside. Now hop on."

"On? Is that a joke?" She looked down and finally noticed that Harry's feet hovered several inches above the ground. "Oh. It flies. Of course it does. Pockets that are bigger inside and brooms that fly. Swords that turn into sticks as well. Perhaps this is a dream and my head even now rolls on the floor at Marcus' feet. Though I certainly hope not, I rather suspect that if you are real then you have a fascinating tale to tell."

Harry rolled his eyes when he responded. "You're not dead."

"If I were dead and you were a dream you would undoubtedly say the same." Nevertheless she swung one leg hesitantly over the broom and slowly settled her weight down. "Ooh! It looks hard but feels like sitting on a cloud."

"Cushioning charms," Harry explained. She had nestled the small urn she had been willing to die for between them and Harry found himself a bit disappointed that the only point of contact was where she gripped the back of his robes firmly in one hand. The flight was brief, they were only going from one side of a pit to the other after all, but nevertheless Leliana whooped with enthusiasm as they landed near the opposite entrance.

"That was wonderful. Can it go very high?" she asked with laughter. "Please, deputy, tell me we can fly again after we have left this place."

"Very high, and very fast." Harry smiled, he was always happy to share his love of flying. Then he frowned. "Why do you keep calling me deputy?"

"You have not yet introduced yourself but you bare that word on your small metal shield. Is it not your badge of office?" Her words left Harry confused for a moment before he realized what she was talking about. Ripping the badge off his robes he shoved it deep into one of his pockets in embarrassment.

"My name is Harry, and the deputy bit was temporary." He told her sheepishly.

"Oh! Well then, I am Leliana." He was surprised but grateful when she didn't further question the presence of the badge. It would be the start of a very strange story and they both had far more pertinent issues to discuss.

"Pleased to meet you." Harry took a moment to slide the firebolt back into his pocket. Leliana turned towards the exit and he fell in step beside her as they proceeded to the next chamber.

"Oh no. I believe that the pleasure is most certainly mine. Your presence prevented a most heinous defilement from taking place and for that I will be ever gratefully. Then there is my head, which you assert still sits firmly upon my shoulders, and I believe I prefer it there." Leliana's voice was surprisingly cheerful given the subject matter.

"Defilement?" He asked, wondering if this is where the urn came into the story.

"Marcus sought to destroy the sacred ashes with the blood of a dragon." Her voice turned grave as she shared the revelation. "To destroy such a relic of the Maker – I can imagine no greater sin."

"Why would he want to..." Harry shook his head. Her statement had led only to more questions. "Whose ashes are they?"

She almost tripped as her head whipped around to stare at him, her expression turned incredulous. "But you are here. Surely you must know."

"This is, what was it again," Harry pondered for a moment. "I think it was called Andraste's tomb?"

"Yes. This is her resting place." Leliana nodded.

"Who's Andraste?"

Leliana stopped and turned completely to face him. "She is the Maker's bride. The Lady of Sorrow. It was she that broke the Imperium and brought the worship of the Maker back to the world. Her ashes which lay in this urn are said to have the power to heal any injury, cure any sickness, the blessing of the Maker lingering in her mortal remains. How can you not know this?"

Silence claimed the moment as Harry tried to figure out where to start. They had stopped in the middle of yet another chamber but it was empty and lacked distraction. Whatever purpose it had served did not seem to concern Leliana so he focused on trying to explain facts that he was only slowly coming to grasp himself.

"This morning I believe I was someplace very far from here." He started slowly.

"Another town? A distant city? Did you fly here on your strange and wonderful broom? How far would you have had to go to find a place that knows nothing of the Chantry?" She asked the questions in rapidly escalating succession.

"I suspect that I've come much further than that. Look, there was this dark lord, a nasty piece of wizard, and he was working some of the worst magic you can imagine. He opened a doorway between dimensions and I think I somehow got shoved through it when I shut him down." He watched as she considered his words. It was a conclusion he hadn't come to lightly but it would explain why he wasn't dead. The timing would have had to have been perfect but if the portal had finished forming in the same instant the circle collapsed then it was possible he had been thrown through it before the circle's energies could tear him apart. That would explain both why he wasn't dead and why not one single thing had made sense since his arrival.

"Dimensions. Length, width, height, that is the meaning of this word as I understand it." She ventured.

"But imagine if there were more. Picture different worlds stacked on top of each other." He let his wand snap into its holster and held his hands out over top of each other. "Near to each other but separated along an additional dimension that we simply can't perceive."

"The fade." The word was breathed out and her eyes widened with revelation. It wasn't the reaction he was expecting. "You say these worlds are separated but what if they were not? What if they were so close to each other that they touched everywhere and were held apart by only the thinnest of veils. Could you reach, perhaps, from one world into the next from within the dreams of your deepest slumber?"

Harry had to ponder the idea for a moment. What he knew was limited at best and was made up of as much guesswork as it was of actual knowledge. "I suppose that's possible."

"But you say there are more worlds. That your world is like this one. That it has land and sea and sky but with different places and people and history." Her rising excitement faltered. "But what of the Maker? Surely he exists in all things and in all places. If these worlds exist together then they must surely all be of His making."

"That..." Harry paused and considered his reply. He had to be careful not to alienate her. "There are plenty of people in my world who believe in some kind of all powerful god but I've never spent much time worrying about it. I've never heard the term maker used but that doesn't mean it isn't."

Harry thought back to the few occasions in his youth when the Dursley's had tried bringing him to church. He wasn't sure if they'd been hoping God would provide a means of suppressing his magic or instead been anticipating that he would strike down any wizard who dared repeatedly enter a place of worship. Either way when the other attendees had fawned over his polite demeanour and criticized Dudley's loud complaints the Sunday excursions had ended almost as soon as they had begun. It had been so very long ago, but the vaguest recollection of a repeated prayer lingered at the edge of his memories.

"Creator. At times, in prayer, the members of at least one religion in my dimension refer to their god as the creator of heaven and earth." Harry supplied. Didn't the word bare the same essential meaning? Either way after a moment of contemplation she seemed to decide the comparison was acceptable.

Modern wizards, as a rule, had never been strong proponents of religious thinking. In recent centuries especially the word religion was more often associated by them with witch burnings, inquisitions, or crusades. Harry didn't think mentioning that to Leliana would be wise. As friendly as she seemed he still knew little about her and it was probably best not to give her any ideas.

"I prayed to the Maker for salvation and you appeared. Perhaps he ferried you from your world and brought you to this one to act as his instrument." She smiled, seeming satisfied with her conclusion.

"Luck. I've always had ridiculous luck of both varieties," he replied sceptically.

"Or perhaps the Maker has always watched over you." Her expression softened and she placed her free hand gently on his shoulder. "It is an incredible story but I believe you nonetheless. My poor saviour, so far from home. Is there not any way for you to return?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and began walking again. Leliana's hand fell and she continued beside him in silence. He had the dark lord's journal which might let him recreate the ritual. He'd have to alter it somehow, figure out how to use it to target his home dimension. It was a daunting task and while he'd certainly do the research he expected it would be far too dangerous to attempt even if he could figure out how to go about it. "Doubtful."

"Désolée." Leliana reached out and briefly squeezed his hand. He didn't know the word but he could recognize the intent. They proceeded in silence until they reached yet another chamber.

"What a mess." Harry commented upon first glance. Sectioned off by stone archways eight empty pedestals stood spaced evenly along the walls. Pieces of crumbled stone lay scattered everywhere across the floor.

"There were statues here," Leliana explained quietly, "Each representing those who shared her journey. It was here where I first began to suspect..."

"Leliana?" Harry prompted when she fell silent. He watched as she walked over to one of the nearest pedestals and lay her hand upon it.

"If you appeared as you say then do not know what this place truly is. This tomb was created to act as a test meant to judge the worthiness of those who came as supplicants. Here the spirit of each statue would demand your understanding of her life and journey." She sighed and her face fell as she stared at the broken remains. "I knew the answers. I knew all the answers and yet Marcus had no interest in them. Instead he would mock each of the statues and goad them until the spirit burst forth to defend this place from the unworthy. Yet we were no simple pilgrims and each wraith fell before us until none were left."

Shaking her head she turned to leave. "We should not tarry so. There is no telling how long..."

Harry gripped her arm and she pulled away forcefully and scowled at him in response. He held on, while he much preferred her when she was smiling he still needed to know. "What is it that you don't want to tell me."

"I am a fool. Is that what you wish to know? The signs of his intentions were there from the beginning. This was a holy place and with every step he did all he could to destroy the protections meant to keep the urn safe. He always intended to accede to Kolgrim's request." Leliana's shouts softened and she finished in abject misery. "But I did not see the truth until he defied the guardian at the end. While he was ensuring it could not prevent him from his foul deed I made my way to the urn in hopes of protecting it."

"And you did," Harry pointed out. His hand let off its restraint and instead rubbed her arm gently in an attempt to provide comfort.

"We did, " she replied. She forced a smile and turned to leave. "Now we must flee for I fear that Marcus will not let us leave so easily if he caches us."

"He's unconscious on the far side of a bottomless pit. I don't think we need to worry about him anytime soon," Harry pointed out but he followed her nevertheless.

The last, or first, chamber would pass unremarked as they continued onward each pondering their own thoughts. Harry felt entirely out of his depth when confronted with gods with wives and tests of faith. He was used to things more concrete and immediate like insane homicidal wizards and ravenous monsters. Still, he finally decided, he would make sure Leliana was safe before heading his own way. This land obviously had magic so perhaps there were practitioners here who could help him find his way home and maybe Leliana could point him in the right direction before they parted. It occurred to him that there was actually no good reason to hurry. While his disappearance would be noticed there wasn't anyone who would really miss him. He was mulling over that depressing thought when they first stepped outside.

The mountain slope upon which they found themselves was cold and barren. Sheets of white covered everything from the plateau upon which they stood to the top of the nearby craggy peaks. In the distance he could make out ruined temple entrances embedded within the sides of cliffs which had at one time been undoubtedly imposing bastions of worship but had crumbled and cracked over time under the centuries of wind and blowing snow. Several scattered remnants of buildings and stone circles dotted the landscape but few were in any way intact. "Well this is just..."

"Shh!" Leliana hushed him quickly. She leaned close and spoke in a soft voice that he had to strain to hear. "A dragon lairs upon one of the cliffs above. Sound carries in the mountains and I believe it would be wise if we do not seek its attention. Through the furthest ruins lies the quickest and safest path down the mountain."

Harry briefly considered suggesting the use of his broom but in truth neither of them were dressed for flying in arctic weather and there was a limit to what you could manage with warming charms. So he nodded his understanding and they headed out towards the distant structure.

Their journey was a slow one. The ground was crusted with snow and ice making footing perilous and the wind cutting into them was freezing and forceful. When it became too much he raised the hood of his robes and found the charms protected him well enough but he could see Leliana shivering more with each and every step. His wand slipped into his hand and he considered briefly whether it was best to cast the warming charm directly on her or to cast it on her garments. He didn't get the chance to do either before a long high pitched whistle cut across the mountains.

"What the.." Harry muttered as he turned in confusion. His eyes drifted from the stone circle to one of the temple ruins before Leliana's hand on his arm urged him to face back towards the now distant entrance to Andraste's tomb. "Bugger."

There, barely visible in the distance, stood the form of Marcus the warden watching them. His armour had been abandoned at some point, probably in order to scale the wall around the bottomless pit, and as they watched he raised one hand in mocking salute. Then he put both hands to his mouth and let out another long, piercing whistle. Leliana swore as the sound once again resounded across the frozen land. "Bâtard!"

"What was it that you said, that the Maker still had a part for him to play?" Harry asked. A loud cry of rage joined the whistle. The terrifying sound merged the roaring of a lion with the screeching of a bird of prey and the fury of a viking horde and the land quaked in response to its call.

"But... I never... this was not what I meant!" Leliana cried in protest. The warden saluted again before turning and disappearing inside the tomb, leaving them to their fate.

Harry glanced up, hand moving to retrieve his broom only for him to stop as he realized there simply wasn't enough time. The beast was already upon them.

Most breeds of dragons while volatile creatures were not prone to hunting wizards or men. They liked to be left alone, to tend to their young, and to hunt and devour a variety of animals of the four legged variety. They were for the most part only mildly intelligent and generally not overly vindictive. But the creature coming for them was like no dragon Harry had ever seen.

It was long and lean with obscenely bulging muscles defining its arms, legs and torso and contrasting sickeningly with its skeletal frame. It had to be at least sixty feet long from tail to head and the massive bat like wings stretched out to cover the sky above them as it descended. It was covered mostly in black scales except for its wings and crest where there was only the dark pink hide of its skin. The dragon crashed into the ground directly in front of them and the earth quaked from the impact. Harry and Leliana both stumbled briefly and righted themselves in time to watch as the monster raised its head and screamed at the heavens.

This, Harry thought, was turning out to be the worst day of his life. He'd first been attacked by wraiths, a being surpassed in foulness only by the soul sucking dementors. Later necessity had led him to the suicidal collapse of a ritual circle only to instead find himself most likely banished to another dimension on the far side of creation. He had then been electrocuted, thrown head first into a wall for the second time within the span of a single hour, and now to top it all off a dragon was going to eat him. From the look in its eyes as it stared down at them it was also an evil vindictive dragon that liked to play with its supper.

Well, it wasn't like he'd never fought a dragon before, he supposed it was time to add another to his record.

"Hey you with the beady eyes!" Harry hollered loudly in the hopes of gathering its complete attention as he slowly walked sideways, away from Leliana. Her startled eyes followed him and he gestured surreptitiously towards the meagre shelter of a near by dilapidated stone circle. She shook her head at first in denial but Harry glared at her and gestured again. She took a quick glance at the dragon and then after sending him a few worried looks slipped away silently. Something in her motion attracted the dragon's attention and it began to turn its head so Harry renewed his assault. The results were effective. "Look at me when I'm talking to you! I'm going to find your nest, fry up your eggs, and make a nice golden omelet with them! Are you listening to me you bloody useless wanker?"

He wasn't sure how much of that the dragon understood but it certainly seemed to grasp his intent. It ignored Leliana completely, which had been the whole point, and instead turned the full weight of its baleful glare directly at Harry. He had a brief moment to question the wisdom of his approach before it opened its maw, inhaled once, and then bathed him in flames.

The inferno lasted for ten seconds but as far as anything caught in its blast would have been concerned it might as well have been an eternity. In its wake ice and snow had boiled away leaving only scorched earth and stone in a huge swath in front of the dragon. Of the irritant with the audacity to threaten her clutch the dragon could find no sign. Turning to where the red haired one still fled the dragon prepared to follow.

"OK. Now I'm just brassed off!" In his brief respite while the flames poured from the dragon's mouth, aimed at his previous location, he'd had some time to prepare. With a flourish of his wand he completed his spell and beneath the dragon's feet a circle of snow and earth transformed into cloying, viscous mud. The creature floundered as it tried to wrench free but instead its massive weight pulled it downward and it sank quickly and deeply into the muck. In the end only its torso remained visible above the quagmire and the dragon screamed in rage as it twisted violently, searching desperately for solid purchase. It turned its head to find and devour the irritant and when it found him it made the mistake of staring at him threateningly for just one moment too long.

Harry took advantage of the perfect target and two bright conjunctive curses sped towards the creatures eyes. A moment later its world turned to darkness and enraged it snapped its jaws towards the place where he had last been. With a sharp crack Harry vanished there and reappeared elsewhere. The creature's teeth closed only on empty air.

"That's the fifth time something's had a serious go at killing me today and I'm sick of it." A brief incantation and five seconds of wand work brought a golden lion into the world and with a roar it rushed at the floundering beast before it. The lion had no means of breaching the thick scales of the dragon but it was quick and agile and had claws more than capable of rending the vulnerable hide of its wings. The dragons screams escalated with both fear and pain as the unseen threat tore at sensitive flesh and tendons.

"I'm tired." With some effort a second lion joined the first. Pouncing on the remaining wing and tearing into it with brutal efficiency.

"And I'm hungry." As the thrashing creature again tried to claw its way out of the muck Harry abruptly cancelled his first spell, leaving the dragon's limbs embedded deep in heavy earth and stone.

"And really I just want to go home so could you please just bugger the fuck off!" Cutting curses just reflected off its hide but his first try with a bludgeoner smashed into its head effectively and increased the already titanic volume of its protestations. Satisfied with the result Harry began hammering curse after curse into the creature's writhing cranium until finally something loudly cracked and the creature went suddenly silent. It fell still and its head dropped to lay upon the ground even as the lions continued to tear away at its now fraying wings.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead Harry stumbled groggily towards the stone circle. It had been a long day and in addition to having the stuffing beaten out of him he had expended an awful lot of magic. It was no surprise that it was finally catching up to him. He didn't get far before Leliana appeared and she moved to support him with one arm as he stumbled. The other still held firmly to the urn as it had from almost the first moment he'd seen her.

"You were magnificent." He could hear the smile in her voice and he had to admit he was feeling pretty proud of himself. It wasn't every day you came out on top in single combat with a dragon. "For a moment I had thought you burned to ash. I was very cross with you."

"You were really upset?" Harry prodded with amusement. The distress in her voice was evident but it was exceeded by her joy at his victory.

"Oui, heart broken. If it was done with you then inevitably it would next have come for me." Harry laughed and did his best to stand on his own. It was a little touch and go, but he managed. He was about to suggest that they make good their escape when a violent tremor shook the earth. His animated lions went air born as they were catapulted into the distance and the dragon, apparently still alive, after a moment of colossal effort managed to rip a second of its arms free from the confines of the earth. Harry didn't even try to work up the pretence of surprise, it had just been that kind of a day.

"Leliana." He calmly raised one hand to Leliana's face and turned her shocked gaze from the struggling dragon to his own. "I need you to think of someplace safe. Think of someplace far from here and someplace you know well. Picture it in your mind and hold the memory there."

Staring into her confused eyes he raised his wand and gathered the threads of his remaining focus. "Leglimens"

Mind magics. He wasn't fond of them but occasionally they had their undeniable uses. He still wasn't sure if the tomb was protected by apparition wards but if it was they had ended at the entrance. It was what had given him a fighting chance against the dragon and now, in a land where all he knew was the place where he currently stood, he used his mediocre skill in leglimency to skim his companion's mind in search of a safe haven.

Her thoughts were turbulent, disorganized in the face of the days events and he frantically grappled with the deluge of memories as he tried to pull together the reflected imagery his words should have formed in her mind. What he found was the sight of a sleepy looking church, surrounded by a small village and containing a beautiful rose garden within its walls. The memory was distorted by time but it was clear enough for his purpose. As the dragon finally tore itself from the ground with an enraged cry Harry slipped out of Leliana's mind and reached for her. She squeaked in surprise when he wrapped his arms around her and then a moment later with a twist and a crack they vanished.

Authors Notes :

So there, as promised I've now added Dragon Age to the mix. I would have had this posted yesterday but events conspired against me and I spent the entire day out.

First – Leliana's chant was taken directly from Dragon Age. I also stole and remixed a very tiny bit of dialogue from the game at the beginning of the urn confrontation.

Now I'm sorry for anyone who really likes Morrigan – I quite like her character and I didn't go in intending for her to die but it just kind of happened. Sort of like the giant matchstick which I keep telling myself is more than a little bit silly. Frankly the entire confrontation around the urn morphed drastically from my original intent but the version which featured a slightly more clever incarnation of Harry just wasn't nearly as much fun.

I also realize that I turned Harry into a bit of a punching bag for a while but frankly I dropped him into the deep end and he really didn't take things seriously enough. In short he kind of got what he deserved. But he's still alive, he saved (and in turn was saved by) the damsel, and he got to take out some of his frustration on a dragon (and that again just kind of happened. He was originally supposed to skip straight to the running away but when I started writing it he was just so pissed off that he kind of got away from me.) so try not to feel too sorry for him.

The next chapter is scheduled to be quite a bit less violent. I've only barely started it so my best guess is a week or two before posting but I'm headed out of town for work next week so we'll see what happens.

As always reviews are welcomed and I'd love to hear what you think. In particular I was worried about pulling off the Dragon Age characters, especially Leliana, but I feel like I managed OK.

And yes, for those who recognized it I did steal a line from Doctor Who. In my defence, it was a really good line.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer : Anything you read here that comes from the Harry Potter books is not mine. If it comes from the Dragon Age games then it also isn't mine. That covers pretty much everything.

Important Canon Note : One reviewer pointed out that Moody used a "staff" to cast magic. I had no idea what they were talking about so I looked it up. I remembered he had a walking stick when he first showed up at Hogwarts which J.K. Rowling may have referred as a staff but that's it.

From what I've found Moody's staff being anything more than a walking stick is purely a movie invention and is not reflected in the books. I haven't watched more than the first movie (which I didn't like) and am using the books as my only source of canon. As far as I know in the books the only focus used was a wand (or a dysfunctional wand hidden in an umbrella). If I'm incorrect there I'll probably disregard that particular breach of canon but I would be curious to know. Not, however, curious enough to go back and reread the HP books right now.

A/N : 2013/08/27 - some minor edits, removed a couple of word repetitions and incorrect homonyms etc...

**Chapter 3 **

The light seemed brighter, Harry noticed, the sun shining down from a clear sky very different from the clouds that had covered the frozen mountain top. He was also struck by the quiet, silence having replaced the fury of the dragon's screams as it tore itself free from its earthen confinement. More than anything else though, what caught Harry's attention, was the smell.

He hadn't realized just how clean the arctic air was, didn't realize, not until he was in turn confronted with the putrid, sickly sweet vapours of the courtyard. The rose bushes, undoubtedly the source of the stench, may once have been vibrant and full of life but they had become twisted and decayed, their flowers turned to darkened buds oozing with foul puss. The cobblestones were laid out in pathways and patterns that he recognized, and the walls and archways stood where he had expected, but the wooden benches had become nothing more than kindling scattered upon the ground and all that remained of the door that led into the church were a few blackened boards hanging from a single scorched hinge. Blanketing all this, a layer of fine soot and ash covered everything and Harry was left with one singular revelation about their nightmarish surroundings. They were exactly where Harry had meant them to be, but something horrible had happened there.

A loud thud shattered the silence when the urn fell. Harry hadn't seen it fall, hadn't even been aware of it until after it impacted against the walkway. He remembered how far Leliana had been willing to go to fight for that urn. He remembered that she had been willing to die for it as well. His head instantly turned to follow its path, shocked that after everything she had been through she would ever let the relic leave her hands. Despite its fragile appearance the urn was still whole somehow, and undamaged it began to roll noisily across the cobblestones. As it continued its gently curving path towards the bushes Harry felt Leliana go limp within his embrace, collapsing abruptly against him, and his arms tightened reflexively to keep her from falling to the ground.

That was when her tremors began. The screams came soon after.

Dursleys to dark lords - hardship had been at the core of Harry's life ever since he could remember and always he had endured it. Hours later, sitting in that courtyard, listening to Leliana screaming into his chest as the sun fell, he wondered if this would be the thing that finally broke him. Every time she cried out, every time she jerked in his arms, he tried to tell himself that it would end, that if he just lasted a little longer then relief would finally come. He tried to tell her the same, whispering to her that she just had to last through the next minute, past the next tremor, and he told her that when it was over he would never let anything hurt her again. He held her close and wondered if she believed him. He wondered if he believed any of it himself.

It was long past nightfall when his promises first began to prove themselves the truth. As the moon neared its zenith he noticed that her tremors had begun to diminish in their intensity and that her hoarse cries had started to grow quieter. Violent spasms slowly transformed into mild tremors and then eventually into uncomfortable shivers. When her breathing finally grew regular and calm, her worn out body pulling her into an exhausted sleep, he knew that it was finally over. She was fevered, her forehead hot and sweaty, and she still shook occasionally as her body tried to reconcile with its ordeal, but a diagnostic charm showed that all traces of the mangled apparition magic were gone from her.

The expected relief didn't come. A coiled mass of tension and self disgust had built up in his guts as the night continued and it was still there, twisting and eating at him from the inside. She made a noise and he tensed, waiting for it all to start over again, only for her to softly mumble and nuzzle deeper into the folds of his robes.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered, surprised at how thick and muddled he sounded.

He tried to stay awake but inevitably his own exhaustion finally began to creep up on him. Harry had been running on nothing but magic and will power for far too long and even as he tried to keep them open his eyes began to drift shut of their own accord. Resigning himself to his imminent rest he threw up some general aversion and notice-me-not charms as best he could from his seated position and hoped that they would be enough to keep he and Leliana safe until morning. He let his eyes close and his muscles relax and when sleep came it claimed him quickly.

"Wake up." Harry was exhausted. His head ached and his back was killing him and if he could remember where his wand was he was going to curse whoever it was that was bothering him. "We cannot stay here. Wake up!"

Fingers pressed hard against his ribs and Harry flinched and mumbled gruffly in response "Early... bloody hell m'tired."

His arms tightened and he nuzzled his head against something with a floral scent that reminded him vaguely of the garden at Privet Drive. An exasperated sigh was followed by some words that sounded vaguely like cursing but for some reason he couldn't seem to recognize their meaning. Fingers again poked into his side but this time they pushed deeper, harder, and refused to be ignored. Harry's eyes opened abruptly and he sat upright, flinching, and then blinked rapidly as he adjusted to the daylight.

"M'up, I'm up." It took him a long moment to remember where he was. His eyes slid across the corrupted rose bushes and the soot covered walls before he looked down into the worried face of his companion. She pushed against his chest and it took him a moment to realize that he held her trapped in his arms and that she wanted him to let her go. Her complexion was pale but her eyes were alert and aware and most importantly entirely sane. He'd seen what that kind of pain could do to a person and had been terrified that it would break her mind. She appeared also hesitant and unsure, but that was to be expected after what he'd put her though. "Oh thank Merlin."

Leliana said nothing. She instead slid warily from his loosened grasp. Kneeling she reached to recover her weapons which lay on the ground beside the urn, all still placed where he'd magicked them the night before.

"Leliana I'm so sorry." He blurted out the apology unsure exactly what he was apologizing for. Was it for inflicting a night of torture on her? For his inability to end it? Perhaps he was apologizing for bringing her to the twisted caricature of her treasured memory. There were so many possibilities and he felt compelled to make amends for all of them.

"Why did you bring us here?" She demanded angrily in a hoarse voice. "Of all the places in Fereldan this is the last to which I would choose to return."

Leliana struggled to put her bow back over her shoulder, her shaking hands giving away that she still suffered lingering effects from the night before.

"And why do I feel as if I have been crushed in the gullet of the dragon and then excreted to once again face the world. Explain this to me. Explain to me why we are now in the heart of my vilest nightmare and yet no matter how hard I try I cannot wake from it." She gave up on the bow in disgust and turned to him with a scowl on her face. Harry realized that he owed her answers, he just wasn't sure where to start. "What did you do?"

"I pulled this place from your mind. I was looking for someplace you remembered as being safe and as far away from the dragon as possible. When I found it..." He looked pointedly around the courtyard and then sighed "I brought us there. I am so sorry Leliana but I had no bloody idea it would be like this."

Leliana's brow furrowed in confusion as she listened but she didn't interrupt him.

"I was exhausted. I couldn't have gone another round with that dragon." He admitted. He'd been at the end of his rope and at the time thought himself out of options. Now though, knowing the cost, he was sure he could have found another way. "I thought it would be safe, that we would be safe, and I had no idea getting here would hurt you. I think its because you're a muggle – my magical core must somehow protect me during apparition - but you, you don't have one. Bloody hell Leliana if I'd had any idea..."

"Wait." Leliana held out one shaky hand, her body rigid as she tried to sort through his verbal diatribe. "You walked through my thoughts? Read the history of my life as if it were a book?"

Harry shook his head. "Not your thoughts, it doesn't work like that, just memories. And peeking into someone's head can be confusing, their memories hard to grasp, it was all I could do to clearly see the one single memory, the image of this place. I'm rubbish at leglimency really, that's why I had to prompt you first. "

Leliana nodded her head. Her posture relaxed slightly and he wondered what it was he'd said that had reassured her. After a moment's thought she looked at him and stated with firm resolution. "I am not a muggle."

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times at the unexpected falsehood. "I'm sorry? All it means is that you are someone who doesn't have any..."

"I understand the intent but nevertheless, I am not a muggle. A muggle is something cute, cuddly, and not at all bright. If we are going to be companions you and I then you will never refer to me as such again." She stared at him intently and it somehow felt like an ultimatum. She made the statement again, this time drawing each word out insistently. "I am not a muggle."

"Right," Harry stated slowly before continuing in a quiet undertone, "That's the part she gets on about?"

Leliana scowled at his comment and he found himself shrinking under her glare.

"Not a muggle," He agreed, "Understood."

She stared a moment more, looking intently into his eyes until he found himself looking away. The corner of her lips twitched upwards in a brief sign of amusement and she shook her head in resigned exasperation. "These amazing things you do. I have never before seen the like and all of it done with such a tiny staff. Creating lions from mid air, pulling the dragon into the ground and trapping it there, disappearing from one place and reappearing elsewhere... this is the apparition of which you spoke? This is what you did to take us from the mountain top? A week's journey on foot traversed in a single moment?"

Harry nodded. "Everything on that mountain seemed to want us dead. It was the fastest way to fix the situation. Leliana I'm so sorry..."

"Harry. You must cease apologizing." Leliana leaned forwards on her knees to peer closely into his eyes. "If you truly did not believe your magic would harm me then I cannot hold the results against you. Besides which, if we had stayed then perhaps we would truly have become the dragon's meal. Nevertheless I trust you will not do this, apparition, with me again."

Harry couldn't stop himself. The words were out of his mouth before the thought had finished forming. "And if there's another dragon?"

"Unless," Leliana added while leaning back again, "Perhaps, we are once again about to be eaten by a dragon."

She paused to consider her last words.

"And even then you should ask me first. I may decide I prefer the dragon." She finished.

When she didn't continue he felt compelled to prompt her. "And that's it?"

"What else is there?" she asked with a confused lilt in her voice. He couldn't sense any anger, and any wariness she had displayed upon first awakening had vanished as if it had never existed. Her hands were still shaking and yet she sat there completely collected and he just couldn't understand.

"I tortured you," Harry stated with frustration. He'd expected anger and fear not reason and logic and it did little to assuage the feeling of horror that lingered inside him, "For half the night. The worst thing I have ever seen done to a person and it was done by my hand. It was my magic, my power. Mine. It was dark, and wrong, and completely and utterly my fault, and, Leliana, I am so sorry. I tried to stop it. I couldn't dispel it. I almost cast a stunner on you before I realized it would probably kill you. You should hate me, how can you just..."

He felt her hands on his face and he looked at her, not quite sure when it was he had turned away or when she had moved so close. Her eyes were damp and he could feel the slight tremor still lingering in her fingers.

"And was it not also you're voice that anchored me to this world? Were they not your arms which held me and protected me until the nightmare gave way to the morn?" She spoke with soft conviction and he felt her thumbs wiping away moisture from his cheeks that he hadn't realized was there. "I suffered greatly but I do not believe I for one moment suffered alone. If it is my forgiveness you need Harry then you have it. If it is my recriminations then I am sorry but they will not come. My pain is over Harry, now please let yours end as well."

She meant it. Her blue eyes almost filled his vision and there was no hint of blame, just quiet understanding. She sat back slowly, her hands falling to her sides, a compassionate smile gracing her features. He coughed roughly, clearing his throat uncomfortably, and felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Snapshots of the night before still lingered in his thoughts and he knew the memory would haunt him for years to come but he would not allow himself to dwell on them any longer. If she had no use for his guilt, then he would seek his penance in another form.

Leliana's gaze turned to peer around the courtyard, her eyes lingering briefly towards one particularly twisted bush in the corner with a worried frown, before she once again turned to face him. "We must go. This land is corrupted by the blight and the longer we linger here the more likely it is that we will be corrupted as well."

Harry looked at the decayed shrubbery and had a sudden vision of his arms and legs withering away in similar fashion. Given what this blight, whatever in Merlin's name that was, had done to the roses he had no interest in discovering what it could do to him. However he stemmed the sudden and immediate urge to hop on his broom. Harry's stomach was about to start chewing its way out from the inside and he couldn't imagine Leliana could be feeling much better.

"Food first." Doing his best to put their recent conversation from his mind Harry leaned calmly back against the wall and examined his jacket to try and find the correct pocket. It had about a dozen of them and it sometimes got hard to keep track.

"I'm sorry Harry. I have no food, nor any water, our supplies were always left at camp guarded by one or two of our party," she stated apologetically. "I have little else now as well. I have only what I carry and a few silvers. Marcus always jealously guarded the group's coin. I should have taken his money pouch before we left him, it was foolish of me to leave it behind."

"Food and water I can manage." Harry finally located the correct pocket and he pulled out a plastic water bottle from its depths, twisted the top, and handed it to a bemused Leliana before grabbing another for himself and taking several long gulps from it. "Is gold valuable here?"

"Gold? Both men and woman covet it and kill for it as they always have." Leliana sniffed at her bottle hesitantly before taking a sip. She scrunched her face up and gave the bottle a brief look of distaste. She was obviously thirsty though and proceeded to quickly drain half the contents without complaint.

"Then don't worry about it. " He fished out a couple of bars from the same pocket, not stopping to look and see what kinds his brief search had produced, and passed her one.

She raised her eyebrow at his comment before she looked quizzically at the brightly wrapped product which she now held in her hands. "Quaker?"

When stocking his robes Harry had figured it only made sense to keep a supply of food in his oversized pockets for emergencies. Being stranded in another dimension hadn't been what he'd had in mind at the time but it just went to prove the adage that it was best to be prepare for anything. His first efforts, proper boxed meals held under stasis charms, had proved somewhat unfortunate and before a week was out he'd begun to smell like a walking buffet. He'd quickly realized the problem and emptied the responsible pocket but it had taken ages for the aroma to finally dissipate and he'd spent a month with stray animals following along behind him wherever he went.

Granola bars had been his reluctant second choice and with preservation charms around the sealed wrappers they would probably outlast the pocket that contained them. He wasn't quite sure how many boxes of granola Kreacher had emptied into it, all the while mumbling about foul muggle foods and the disgrace to the house of Black, but he suspected he wouldn't have to worry about running out any time soon.

"Sorry. Best I can do." Harry opened his wrapper and she watched carefully as he took his first bite before slowly opening hers and tentatively doing the same. "Before, you called my wand a tiny staff - seems an odd thing to say."

Unlike with the water her face lit up in satisfaction at the taste of the bar and she eagerly began munching on the dry fair. Harry's tasted bland and slightly nutty so he had a hard time understanding her enthusiasm. "It is a wand? A magic wand? Of course it is. I have heard of them in songs and stories but had not thought that such things truly existed. Nor would I have imagined them to be so tiny."

"But you were travelling with a witch, so you're obviously familiar with magic. Then again I suppose she didn't recognize my wand as a threat either which is strange. The way she cast those spells without a focus, she must have had an amazing amount of willpower," Harry commented while wishing he'd been able to fill the pocket with corned beef sandwiches instead. "Best I can manage wandless is a summoning charm or a lumos and even that takes some intense effort."

Leliana swallowed the last bite of her granola bar and washed it down with the remainder of her water. Harry held up a second bar, this one claiming on the pink wrapping that it included raspberries, and she smiled eagerly and caught it when he tossed it to her. She peeled off the wrapper as she replied. "That makes little sense. I have met few mages Harry but from what I know all of them can cast magic unaided and while Morrigan may not have used a wand she did have her staff. She used it to increase her power, as most mages do, would this not be the focus of which you spoke?"

Harry pondered this as he forced down the rest of his first bar and reluctantly pulled a second from his pocket. It claimed it had chocolate in it, which in theory ought to be an improvement. He was unwrapping it when the import of her words finally hit him and he froze. "That oversized walking stick she was fondling? She channelled magic through that monstrosity?"

"Oui. This surprises you? Your wand, that is what is truly strange. That such a small thing could allow you to accomplish such amazing feats of magic, I have never witnessed the like," Leliana replied. "May I have more of the strange water?"

"What? Oh, sure." He paused his contemplation to hand her another bottle. "Leliana. Witches can't do that. It doesn't bloody well work like that."

And it didn't. Wizard were all born with their power. It was in their blood and in their guts, just waiting to burst forth and transform the world in accordance with their will. Except of course that it didn't. With the exception of the occasional youthful discharge magic stayed firmly where it was seated, out of reach, useless until a wizard held his first wand.

While the wand allowed the wizard control and focus, what it didn't do was increase their power. The magic itself had always been theirs and the wand acted as a channel to bring it forth. The bigger the focus the finer the control, that was the general rule, but every bit of wand core between the wizard and the world actually used up a bit of the outgoing magic and wasted it. The larger the wand core, the more it aided in control, but the more significant the drain on their power. Something the size of the bitch's staff would absorb almost every ounce of magic being put into a spell with barely enough left over to light even the smallest of candles.

"Bloody hell, bloody work, bloody, bloody, bloody. If everything is truly so bloody where you come from it must be an exceedingly violent place." Leliana mused as she finished off the second bar. Harry nearly snorted as he recalled what he'd encountered so far since his arrival, violence at every turn, but he managed to withhold comment. She stared mournfully at the empty wrapper until Harry tossed her yet another which she caught deftly with nimble hands. He noticed that they seemed steadier than before, a good sign. "I do not know what to tell you. She was a witch, and she most often cast her magic with her staff and always seemed more powerful when doing so. It is the way of things."

"Unless she wasn't," he muttered.

"Wasn't..?" Leliana queried.

"A witch. Unless the bitch wasn't really a witch at all." The outlandish spells she'd used, the staff, the fact that this was a completely different world, it was possible. A completely different kind of magic wielding human. It was a terrifying idea but it would explain her lack of what he'd consider a proper focus. But if his magic was unknown here then how could he possibly find aid in adjusting the ritual to take him home?

Leliana nearly choked on the water she was drinking. "The bitch? Is this how you always refer to the witch of the wilds?"

Harry discarded the dark thoughts. He was where he was – alive in a strange land with adventure to be had and in the presence of a beautiful woman. All things considered, it could be worse. He could be dead for starters. Really under the circumstances he had absolutely no business being alive not that he'd ever let that stop him before. He smiled at Leliana and shrugged unapologetically. "With the way she was acting? Seems to fit. You called her a mage? Are all women who are mages called witches?"

Leliana grinned at his response, clearly unrepentant for the part she had played in the woman's death. "Non – they tell stories of the witches of the Korcari Wilds. Mages true but also something more, able to change their form and beguile men, ageless and hidden. I once thought them just stories."

She paused for a moment in thought while chewing on the last of her granola bar.

"Hopefully her mother does not seek us out to find retribution. I have seen few things that Marcus feared but he appeared cautious when he talked of Flemmeth." Leliana frowned and then returned to the original question. "Morrigan used magic, and therefor was a mage as all who use magic are. As you must be..."

"Except I don't think I am," Harry interjected, " A mage I mean. I think what they do, and what I do, may be as different as a goblin and a gnome."

"Is that so very different?" she asked while getting to her feet.

"Call a goblin a gnome and find out," he muttered vaguely. He'd never actually understood the saying before, thinking it a reference to the potato-like garden gnomes. It was obvious why the goblins might take offence to that particular comparison. Remembering his conversation with Howard though the saying suddenly made so much more sense. It was a good thing, he decided, that he'd talked the Weasley twins out of trying it just to see what would happen. They'd probably have found their heads separated from their shoulders in very short order.

Goblins and gnomes aside, he would have to find out more about these mages and their magic later. For the moment there were more immediate concerns to be addressed, concerns that could potentially get them both killed. He glanced pointedly around the courtyard before turning back to look at his companion. "What happened here Leliana?"

Leliana's eyes widened a moment in surprise. "The blight. The darkspawn. Anyone should recognize this. If I needed more proof that you are not from Thedas, that from your expression you have obviously never heard of either is all I would require."

She glanced at the bushes again. The water bottle held in her hand crumpled abruptly and she looked down at it in surprise. Lifting the plastic container up to the light and gazing through it she proceeded to weave a grim tale, her voice slipping smoothly into the cadence of a natural story teller as she began. "The darkspawn are always there, below the ground, a pestilence amongst the deeper roads. They are foul, mindless creatures that know only suffering and death. Throughout the ages they are rarely seen on the surface, but when they do climb from the abyss they come only to spill our blood and revel in our destruction."

But while they abide below the darkspawn are not idle. Instead they dig. Deeply. Constantly. Ever seeking the songs of the old gods. But four times have they found one of the ancient creatures. Four times since the Tevinter Imperium reached for the Golden City and defiled it in the ancient times. When they find one of the old gods they then inflict their tainted blood upon it and corrupted it leads them forth to make war upon us all. Then the darkspawn walk the face of Thedas like a plague, corruption flowing from their very bodies and the land and its people die. Kingdoms fall, armies perish, and the blight stains the land. It is happening again, now, here. The darkspawn climb to the surface, their numbers swelling, and the old god sings in the dreams of the grey wardens sworn to its destruction. We stand now at the tip of the fifth blight Harry – may the Maker protect us all. That is what has happened here. It is what will take our lives from us unless we are very quickly away."

It took Harry a moment to realize that Leliana had stood and was again shouldering her bow, this time with much surer hands, and he forced himself to also rise to his feet. The sleep had helped, so had the sustenance, his back still ached in protest but overall he felt better than he had since before he'd imploded the ritual circle a lifetime ago and a world away.

"You must tell me about these goblins and gnomes, I have heard of neither. But you must tell me later, when we are far away from here. Forgive me Harry, we have a long journey ahead of us but first there is something I must do," Leliana stated quietly. She looked at the bottles and food wrappers in her hands, unsure what to do with them until Harry took them from her. When he nodded his understanding she picked up the urn and turned to face the remains of the doorway leading into the church. Taking a deep breath she stiffened her shoulders and stalked determinedly inside.

Harry took a moment to vanish the trash with his wand. He then slipped one hand into his pocket and thought briefly of his firebolt, gripping the beloved broom and enjoying the thrum of its magic before letting it fall back into the pocket. Wherever they were going, Harry didn't plan for their trip to take nearly as long as Leliana believed it would.

* * *

He left Leliana kneeling before the ash strewn altar to her Maker. The church hadn't been empty when it burned, there had been people still inside. He'd had to walk past a score of blackened bodies to reach the exit, the remains of those who had sought shelter within the home of their god, prayed for safety, and been left to die amidst smoke and fire. Some of the remains had been too small to be adults and how Leliana could maintain any faith in divine benevolence when faced with such a massacre was beyond Harry's ability to understand.

Outside where he waited was little better than the church. Three mutilated corpses were lying on the ground, bloated in the sun and being picked over by crows, but at least outside the oppressive confines of piety and worship he could stop wondering when this Maker of Leliana's would show up and strike him down for his blasphemous thoughts. It was a new dimension, with new rules, and for all he knew it could happen. He wasn't going to take any chances.

He'd been surprised to see the two identical stone statues of women guarding the stairs to the church. They stood vigilant, long swords held upright in their hands, continuing to keep watch long after those they had served were dead. The large courtyard which surrounded the front of the church was otherwise empty and the sizable gap in the wall where he suspected some kind of gate had once stood was, like the doors, guarded by two more of the warrior statues.

Standing in the gateway and staring out upon what little remained of the village it became clear to him why its inhabitants would have sought shelter within the church's sturdy walls. Of most of the buildings only stone hearths remained, many of the structures having been completely immolated. Of the rest there was little more, the occasional sections of charred beams or singed shingles somehow having survived the intense heat and flames.

In the distance the ruins of a massive stone bridge butted up against the village and stretched past it in both directions, an ancient construction perhaps from a time when the entire valley had been little more than a lake bed. The lake long gone there was now only a small river which wound its way through the town and split it roughly in two, crossable only via a single tiny bridge located near the centre. On the far side of the river a wind mill sat alone upon a hill top, the one building that had somehow weathered the destruction, now holding a lone vigil over the remains.

Leliana had yet to name the place. She had once used the name Thedas but he suspected she had meant either the country or the continent or perhaps even the entire planet. He had far too many questions and what he didn't know was bound to get him killed sooner or later. At some point, when nothing was trying to slaughter them, he and Leliana would have to sit down and have a very long conversation. Eyeing up the ruins he fingered his wand and admitted to himself that the time for it might not be soon. He let his eyes skim across the village wondering if there was any sign of life, not sure if he wanted there to be.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please..." He murmured the school song under his breath – settling into the tune of a plodding dirge. It felt appropriate. Harry had been gone from New York for a day and everyone was probably assuming he was dead. Magic might be able to determine that he was alive but he really doubted anyone would bother to check under the circumstances. His funeral would be held in England and they'd undoubtedly turn it into a political farce with blowhards such as the minister taking centre stage. Wouldn't that be the real tragedy. His death turned into a political statement. Harry twirled his wand between his fingers and watched as red and gold sparks shot off into the air. "Teach us something please..."

Something moved far off in the distance near one end of the ancient bridge. Whatever or whoever was out there they were too far away to make out and he reached for his robes. It took him a minute to figure out in which of the dozen pockets he'd stuck the omnioculars, the robes he'd purchased had nearly unlimited room to hold things but he'd later realized that he should have insisted on some kind of inventory system when he bought them. Not wanting to take his eyes off the bridge he resorted to reaching into one pocket after another and imagining what they looked like. It wasn't until he tried his right inside lower pocket that he finally felt them materialize solidly in his hand.

"Whether we be old and bald..." He held the viewing glasses up to his eyes and with a couple of flicks of a dial turned the zoom magnification up as far as it would go. Coming down the steps at one end of the bridge a steady stream of creatures stalked into the village, spreading out as they entered and sniffing at the air like a dog might when searching for prey. Most of them were short, stocky creatures with pale yellow tinted brown skin textured like a lizard or a snake. Harry wondered what the odds were that they understood parseltongue but supposed that even if they did, they didn't look like they were the type to stop for conversation. From their snarling expressions, the crudely made blades and bows they carried, and the ugly armour of leather and chain, he doubted they were interested in anything but killing anyone and everyone they laid eyes on. He supposed that would make them the darkspawn Leliana had told him about.

"Or young with scabby knees..."A larger darkspawn stepped into the village, waving its taloned hand at the others, directing them to fan out and search. More the height of a man and with paler skin the creature was still muscled like a muggle body builder and had a snarl on its face that Harry thought looked decidedly unfriendly. He stopped singing. The creatures were a long ways off but it was probably best they not take any chances. "Time to go I think."

Popping the omnioculars back into their pocket he was reaching for his broom even as he turned to head into the church for Leliana. He didn't make it far. Three loping steps were all he managed before pain seared into his back as something speared him sharply in the spine and threw him roughly forwards. It felt like someone had taken taken a hammer to him and pounded diligently for several hours but he did his best to ignore the pain and instead let himself hit the ground with his shoulder and keep rolling forwards. A sword came down. It impaled itself in the dirt directly behind him, where he would have been if he'd allowed himself to fall prone, and he figured it was probably the sword that had punched him in the back. It looked crude but also very sharp and if it weren't for his robes he'd have been one thoroughly skewered wizard. Not that the owner had given up on that idea just yet.

The creature wielding it, another one of the stocky darkspawn, roared at him with a mouth full of broken teeth and blackened gums. He had the brief thought that Hermione would be horrified with the lack of dental hygiene before he slashed his wand abruptly in the air. A flash of pale blue light and the curse crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat to slice through the creature, completely unimpeded by its armour. It went abruptly silent, standing slightly befuddled for a moment, before it looked down at the dark wet line spreading from just above its hip, across its torso, and then underneath the opposing armpit. It looked up at him and grunted. Climbing to his feet Harry brushed off his robes and saluted the darkspawn with his wand. He then watched as with a slick wet squelching sound everything above the cut simply slid to the ground. A moment later its legs collapsed and as the creature fell from Harry's view he found himself looking at two more of them racing through the courtyard gateway. Bloody brilliant. He'd been spending so much time eyeing up the large group at the bridge that he hadn't noticed the vanguard which must have already been sneaking through the ruins.

Even as the two in the gateway brandished their swords five more shapes appeared behind them. There were seven of the creatures visible, probably many more he couldn't see yet and their main force could be no more than five or ten minutes away. If the army reached the church Harry and Leliana were dead, Harry held no illusion that he could fight off a couple of hundred of the creatures, but he pushed that concern aside. For the moment he'd have to kill what was in front of him and worry about the rest later.

With a flick and a sweep he sent his magic forth in a tidal wave of force that hurdled into the approaching dark spawn and knocked them from their feet. The two nearest hit the ground in the courtyard while the group behind them simply disappeared from view beyond the gateway. Two slashes of his wand cut down the first pair but he could hear those outside the wall getting to their feet and growling encouragement at each other and he was pretty sure there were more than five of them. It sounded like at least a dozen of the creatures were now about to storm the courtyard and cutting that many down one by one was a risky proposition.

Harry had been walking backwards while casting, trying to put as much room between himself and the choke point as he could, and he'd ended up at the bottom of the church steps. Glancing around in the hopes of finding inspiration, he was thinking of conjuring something, perhaps a couple more lions, when his eyes fell on one of the stone guardians. He looked them over, smirked, and then told them just how things were going to be. "Alright you layabouts. I think its far past time for you to start earning your keep."

The darkspawn raced through the gateway twenty strong. Their voices rose, growling and roaring, sounds obviously intended to terrorize their prey. In their midst stood two of the taller darkspawn, just as loud and vile as the stockier ones, each wielding a large axe with blades on both sides. While most of the darkspawn rushed in five of the creatures held back, bows raised and arrows nocked. It was more coherent tactics than Harry had expected from them.

Two stone statues stood in the middle of the courtyard, swords held upright and eyes staring sightlessly forward. The darkspawn ignored the statues though, far more intent on Harry's robed figure standing unarmed directly in front of the entrance to the church. The creatures with bows loosed a volley of arrows which he casually blew from the sky with a swish of his wand. He continued to stand, unconcerned, as the rest of the monsters approached him.

One moment the guardians were nothing but statues, representations of an ideal created long ago by human hands, and in the next they became those ideals made manifest. Granite robes began to ripple in a non existent wind and their eyes grew awareness, moving to follow the creatures that would defile their home. Of one mind and one purpose they both raised their swords, magically sharpened sculptures of solid stone, and swung them down upon the approaching enemy.

The blow of the first guardian swept through one of the stocky creatures, cutting leather and chain with contemptuous ease and continuing in an arc to take off the head of the creature that had been running beside it. The other guardians blade met a raised sword and sheared it in two to find a home embedded deep within the monsters shoulder. The guardian then raised its sword high and whipped it forward and its victim slid off the blade, flew through the air, and tumbled two of the archers to the ground. Most of the darkspawn stopped to face this unexpected threat, their weapons rising and falling as they slammed them against the guardians, but they would have been better served with pick axes. Their blades chipped, one sword snapped in half, and the statues remained unharmed.

As the guardians turned to cut down the now more wary adversaries Harry found himself with more immediate concerns of his own. Some of the creatures had gone around the central skirmish, intent on reaching what appeared to be more easy prey. Harry sent a wave of force at the group on the right and the three creatures found themselves bowled to the ground, stunned. Swivelling to the left he then sliced off two quick cutting curses. The first sailed through the air and took the legs out from one of the stocky darkspawn but his second target, one of the taller beings, threw itself to the ground and rolled beneath the spell only to rise far too close and swing its axe at Harry with all its might. Raising his left arm instinctively to take the blow he was surprised when it never landed.

The creature jerked mid-swing, gurgled for a moment with blood pooling from its lips, before it then collapsed backwards. An arrow fletching protruding from its throat and even as the three creatures he'd knocked to the ground tried to rise two more arrows whistled through the air from behind Harry and found a home deep in one of their chests. Harry slashed his wand twice, quickly taking the head from one of the creatures and eviscerating the next, before glancing back over his shoulder.

Leliana stood just inside the church doorway, her cheeks covered in soot and her eyes staring wide eyed in wonder at the blood splattered statues. She watched as the darkspawn battled uselessly against the guardians and breathed out with reverence "The Maker protects us."

"Actually, that was me," Harry admitted sheepishly and Leliana turned to him in shock. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and swished his wand, again creating a wind that whipped forward to carry another volley of incoming arrows back towards their source. Most went wild, but he noticed that one lucky arrow found its mark and stuck itself in the arm of one of the darkspawn archers.

The guardians had accounted for two more of the creatures and with their dead now outweighing their living the darkspawn grew only more blood thirsty. The archers threw down their useless bows and pulled out whatever other weapon they carried with them, he noticed they bore both blades and cudgels, and with a roar of defiance the creatures ran forward and threw themselves bodily at the first statue. The leading darkspawn impaled itself willingly on the guardian's sword and showed no fear, no regret, simply a desire to take the statue with it when it died. In the same instant the rest of the archers tackled the guardian all at once and the entire group road it to the ground. With a vicious cry of victory the remaining tall darkspawn, and two more of the stocky ones joined in, all of them beating on the guardian and crying out their triumph. The second guardian stoically cut down the two remaining creatures in front of it and turned to aid its twin.

"Bugger," Harry swore with a scowl. He sent forth yet another wave of force with his wand and most of the attackers dog-piling the guardian were catapulted away from the fallen statue. Disoriented and prone they soon found themselves falling to arrow, sword, and spell and the brief battle ended.

The downed statue rose slowly, one arm left behind shattered on the ground. The side of its face was missing and its nose was gone but it was otherwise intact and it still held its sword firmly in its remaining hand.

"Darkspawn?" Harry asked.

"Darkspawn," Leliana acknowledged, "The tall ones are called Hurlocks and the shorter Genlocks. Are you hurt?"

Harry could feel an ache in his back where the first creature had tried to skewer him but he'd had far worse so he simply shook his head.

Leliana nodded and walked over to examine the statues. They had moved to stand where they had begun the battle, situated in the centre of the courtyard and facing the gateway. This time their swords were stained with blackened blood and the ground around them was littered with the fallen corpses of their darkspawn enemies. Harry felt that it made for a far more imposing display. "For a moment I was so sure. They are so real Harry, creatures of living stone, are they truly alive or...?"

"Not in the sense that you mean it. I can infuse them with magic, and purpose, and I could even give them personality if it suited my needs. I could make them seem so real that they could carry on a conversation with you. But they would have no soul, no ability to grow and become more than they are." Harry sent a few reparos at the damaged statue and Leliana watched as its face reformed, its nose regrew, and its broken arm leapt from the ground to bind itself back to the body. The statue turned and saluted Harry with its sword before facing the gateway and once again taking up its watch.

In the distance a symphony of growls, roars, and clashing blades began to echo through the village. Leliana's eyes widened and she turned to Harry in horror. "There are more of them?"

He nodded in reply. "A small army from what I saw. At least a couple of hundred."

With a look of grim determination she nocked another arrow and turned to stand beside the statues. He wondered where the urn had ended up for a moment before he noticed it sitting safe and undamaged by the church door. "Harry you will have to save yourself. Please, take the urn. Bring it to the Divine in Orlais. She will know what to do with it. I know that it is much to ask but please, do this one last thing for me."

It took Harry a second to understand what she was going on about. Leliana was planning to die. She was getting ready for a noble last stand where she would take as many of the darkspawn with her as she could. Harry shook his head and opened his mouth to point out that he had a perfectly viable exit strategy for the both of them when she spoke again.

"I do not think I can survive your apparition again so soon. I..." Her voice broke and she stopped to clear her throat. The roars and growls of the darkspawn grew louder and from the sounds of it they were angry. Harry was beginning to suspect that was how they always sounded. "Please Harry. Take the urn and go. There is little time."

"Well. I'll take the urn." Harry conceded and he walked to the urn and picked it up before slipping it carefully into one of his pockets. It was uncomfortable to observe the act too closely, it was never clear if the pocket momentarily got bigger or the item you were stuffing into it simply became smaller. Leliana nodded her thanks when the relic was safely stowed and turned towards the break in the wall but Harry wasn't finished. "But only so you can have your hands free. You'll enjoy the flight more that way."

"Flight?" She turned back to stare at him in confusion. Smirking he reached into a pocket and retrieved his firebolt. As he the set the broom in mid air and felt the charms kick in with a satisfying thrum her eyes finally lit up in comprehension. "Your flying broom!"

Harry swung one leg over the broom and gripped it firmly. He raised an eyebrow as she continued to stand there, her smile of expectation much more appealing that the maudlin look of resignation from a minute before. "Coming?"

Nodding at him she secured her bow and slipped onto the broom behind him. When she was firmly seated with her arms wrapped around his chest and her body pressed tightly against his back he kicked off from the ground and turned them skywards. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed a group of genlocks rush at them from the gateway and he waved jauntily at the first of them before rocketing skyward. It was still staring after them in befuddlement when it was bisected by the stone blade of a guardian.

The ground fell away below them and Harry didn't stop until they were far above the tormented land. Looking down he could see tiny little darkspawn pouring through the gateway and doing battle with the equally tiny guardians. He was feeling pretty proud of that spell work, he'd never spent much time practising that kind of animation magic and he'd been very pleased with how well it had worked out. He'd put a lot of magic into them and if they weren't about to be smashed to pieces by an army he figured the statues would probably have kept going for at least a week. From the distance it was hard to tell exactly what was happening but he could vaguely make out their blades rising and falling, undoubtedly painting the earth at their feet black with darkspawn blood.

"Would that be considered an army?" Harry queried trying to find a sense of scale, his eyes locked on the darkspawn rampaging through the ruined village below. He'd underestimated, it now looked like there were closer to five hundred of them.

"Non," Leliana breathed in his ear as she looked with him and a shiver worked its way down his spine in response. "Little more than a raiding party. A large one perhaps but still far smaller than the main horde would be"

Harry didn't find the thought overly encouraging. He tried to imagine thousands of the creatures, tens of thousands, sweeping across England. The concept was intolerable. He still couldn't believe she'd tried to get him to leave her there. "I wouldn't have left you."

She hugged herself to him and bowed her head against his neck and admitted sheepishly. "I had forgotten the broom."

"Even without the broom." He pressed on. He wasn't sure why it was so important to him that she understand. There were some things he was simply incapable of and one of those would have been leaving Leliana to die with those monsters below. A few more animated statues, maybe some conjured lions. Lots of cutting curses of course. If he had gotten desperate he'd have probably tried some fiendfyre. He wasn't sure he'd have been able to keep control of it amidst a battle but it might have been worth the risk.

"I understand." She said and he wondered if she really did. Harry never had.

She looked over his shoulder and pointed towards a road. If the sun rose and fell as it did in England then she was sending them West, as good a direction as any.

* * *

The blight fell quickly behind them despite their flight being at a leisurely pace. The road below curved around a river which then opened up into a small lake. The land around them was green and healthy and to the south stretched hills and mountains. The contrast with the blighted lands could not have been more clear.

"They say the grey wardens once rode to war upon the back of griffins. I wonder if this is how they felt, free to do as they wished, to go where they willed and none could stop them."

"But where are we going Leliana? Where is this road taking us?" Harry recognized nothing of the world around him, it reminded him just how lost he was.

"Marcus sought out the urn at the bidding of the Arlessa of Redcliff. He hoped to gain the support of Arl Eamon. Marcus may have betrayed his purpose but the Arl still lies sleeping, a victim of poison, and we are the only ones who have any hope of waking him."

"With the urn?" Harry found himself sceptical but he'd seen stranger things.

"Oui. It is said that a pinch of Andraste's ashes will cure even the most grievous of maladies."

"And from there? The blight, the warden, your part in all this... Leliana I feel like I've been dropped into the middle of a story with no idea what I'm doing. I'm hoping the mages might be able to help me find my way home. Do they have a community of some sort? Where would I go to find them? And what about this Divine you wanted to send me to?"

"Harry, do you trust me?" Leliana asked.

Harry barely knew her. Not really. Should he trust her? He thought of her words earlier that morning, of the pain she had begged him to let go of, and realized that it mattered little because at some point a decision had already been made. "I trust you."

"Then trust that we will find the shelter and safe haven that you sought at Redcliff Castle. There we can rest and determine where our paths will lead us next. I will also tell you the entire beginning of the story in which you find yourself. It is a tale filled with evil and betrayal and violence but alas it is the only one I have to share."

"Sounds depressing."

"True. It is not the most auspicious of beginnings. But it is what comes next which is important, the moment when faith is restored because in that blackest of times, when all seems lost, a saviour appears. He is a stranger from a far off land, separated from home and purpose, but when faced with darkness he does not turn away but instead stands before it, defiantly wielding his strange magics. I do not believe he can imagine doing otherwise. Much less depressing, I think, and it brings me great hope." He could hear the smile in her voice and soaring through the air, the wind caressing his face, he realized that he was smiling too.

Authors Notes :

So there you have it. My thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter – its amazing how much of a pick me up it can be to receive one. Well – unless it is a borderline flame but I only got one of those. Reviews also make for a great motivator when you're stuck in a rut.

I found this chapter particularly hard to write and started it about a dozen times before I found something and stuck with it. In addition it was also about 1500 words longer originally so it ended up quite a bit shorter than I had planned. I removed a big chunk from near the beginning of it in the final edit that I just felt was painful to read in more ways than one.

Next chapter will be out when its out. Hopefully about two weeks but no guarantees.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer : Anything you read here that comes from the Harry Potter books is not mine. If it comes from the Dragon Age games then it also isn't mine.

Note 1 : HP Canon up to and including book 5 of Harry Potter is observed. Anything after that is for the most part ignored. As previously stated HP movie canon is ignored.

Note 2 : Dragon Age Canon is mostly based around DA:Origins – beyond that I make no guarantees. I haven't, for example, played Leliana's song so I may inadvertently contradict it somewhere.

Note 3 : Redcliffe Castle is depicted very inconsistently in the game – if you check the version shown in the Redcliffe Village map it doesn't match the version in the Redcliffe Castle map – I tried to pay more attention to how it was depicted in the village map mostly because it looked more intimidating to me.

Note 4 : If you have the urge to debate Fereldan geography please check the author's notes at the end of the chapter.

Remaining Authors Notes are at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 4

"Just like home." Harry gazed upon Redcliffe Castle and admitted to himself that no, it wasn't really much like home at all. Home was a welcoming bastion of magic. Home was a gleaming structure of light grey stone and lofty towers. Home was also a world away and Harry wasn't sure if he would ever get the chance to see it again.

"You lived in a castle? Hmm... let me guess, you were the court wizard?" She watched him with a playful smirk and when he didn't reply grinned slyly. "No? I know – you are the second son of a noble who left home to seek his fortune."

Leliana's response was irrepressibly cheerful and Harry couldn't help but smile. Their flight had been a perfect way to let go of the stress from the last day and Leliana had obviously enjoyed every minute of it. When he'd admitted to her that she would never be able to control the broom by herself she'd pouted and then insisted he promise they would fly together again. Harry hadn't taken all that much convincing.

"I was just a student and the castle was also a school, Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry. It has stairs that move, more secret passages than you can possibly imagine, and the portraits talk, and gossip, and carry on and if you ever saw them you'd swear they were as real as anyone you've ever met. The ceiling of the great hall is charmed to show the sky and there's a stadium in the back. The stadium was for quidditch of course, and just for flying, but really it was mostly for the quidditch." It had been a long while since Harry had walked the halls of Hogwarts and even if he hadn't gone through the portal he didn't know if he'd ever have been able to return there. No matter where he ended up, he suspected that some part of him would always think of the grand castle as home.

"It sounds wonderful, like something out of a dream."

"Well it also has Snape but there's always a wart somewhere." At her look of confusion he clarified. "Hooked nose, greasy hair, potions professor, he's more the stuff of nightmares than dreams. Really, having him on the other side of a dimensional barrier - almost makes it worth the trip."

"Nevertheless I would have liked to see it." Leliana decided "I'm afraid that you will find Redcliffe Castle not nearly so appealing."

Looking up at the fortress looming in the distance Harry was forced to agree with her assessment. He could already tell that Redcliffe Castle, while impressive, had been built by someone who had no interest in either magic or aesthetics but that what it lacked in beauty it more than made up for in pure vicious functionality. The tiny island upon which it rested rose from the lake like the peak of a mountain and situated at its top, high above the water, the castle's borders gave way only to sheer unscalable cliffs. Its massive walls were of red and grey stone and several layers of them protected the main keep which was itself a solid construction entirely made up of hard unappealing angles.

His gaze wandered across the battlements and Harry decided that if he ever wanted someplace to fight an army from then Redcliffe Castle would definitely be his first choice. What surprised him about the place was that Redcliffe didn't appear to be ready for war. The fortress gates were open, fishing boats still sailed in the lake, and the townspeople went about their daily affairs in the village on the mainland below. If Harry hadn't seen it for himself he'd be hard pressed to believe that there were darkspawn less than an hour's leisurely flight away.

At Leliana's suggestion they had completed the last leg of their journey on foot and between the flight, a brief rest, and their time walking it was now approaching mid-afternoon. She had seemed to think that being seen anywhere near the castle while on the firebolt might unduly alarm its residents and Harry hadn't been inclined to argue with her. He'd been a bit concerned himself, worried that he might find himself subjected to the more traditional responses offered by muggles when someone rides into their town while sitting on top of a flying broom. Traditional responses of course being stoning, drowning, and possibly burning at the stake, though he'd read that the last one could be fun if you did it right. The residents of Redcliffe knew about magic, if he'd understood Leliana correctly then everyone did, but he wasn't yet quite clear on what the common opinion was of those who wielded it.

The lands around Redcliffe were mostly steep hills, almost mountains, which continued right up until the waters edge. The village proper had been built into one of the few exceptions, a flat valley that butted against the lake, but many of its buildings climbed the surrounding hills precariously. The land itself was fertile, trees and bushes clinging wherever they could find purchase, but he suspected there were few areas nearby flat enough to support farmland and that it was the lake which allowed the villagers to earn a livelihood. The road they were travelling had passed a small group of homes where it then forked, and instead of proceeding down the incline towards the village centre Harry and Leliana had turned and continued across a small stream. The road had then begun climbing towards the nearest cliff where it would continue across a bridge to the fortress itself.

There was only the one bridge, the stone structure was both long and wide and was the only way to cross the gap between the island fortress and the mainland on foot. As they approached it Leliana suddenly paused. Harry stopped as well and watched as she looked down at her leather attire, frowned, and then tried to brush off some of the black residue from the ruined village without success. Sighing she then raised a hand to touch her hair only for her expression to fall even further when she encountered the tangled disaster their flight across the country had turned it into.

"I am a mess." Leliana huffed and turned to Harry. As far as he was concerned she just looked like she'd finished a rough game of quidditch, nothing to be ashamed of, but he doubted it would go over well if he said so. She eyed up his pristine robes and never changing hair and pouted effectively. "And I am cross that you did not warn me Harry. I am in no fit state to present myself to the Arlessa."

It honestly hadn't occurred to him to spare a thought for their appearance. Why Leliana would be worried about how they looked when they were bringing both a cure for the Arl and word of an army of rabid monsters nearby he couldn't quite figure out. However, Harry had long ago learned not to question a witch when she brought up the topic of her appearance. Leliana may not be a witch but she was still a woman and Harry was fairly sure the same principle still applied. Fortunately there were few problems that couldn't be solved with the proper application of sufficient magic.

He let his wand fall into his hand from its wrist holster and with a quick swish a cloud of black soot lifted itself from her attire and floated several feet away to disperse across the ground. Next he transfigured a near by stump and, with a bit of concentration, managed to form it into an elegant stand with a wash basin and an attached three foot square mirror. The stand looked more like a tree that had somehow grown into the appropriate shape, fluid and curved with an attractive wood texture and Harry decided he quite liked how it had turned out. He then filled the basin with an aquamenti spell and charmed it to keep the water at a pleasantly warm temperature for the next twenty minutes or so. Finally he picked up a branch and turned it into an ivory handled brush which he then presented to her with a flourish. "Best I can do. I'm afraid witch weekly just wasn't on my reading list."

She took the brush from him and looked closely at it, running her hand slowly along its milky white surface. Embedded along the handle were stylized impressions of phoenixes and lions which Harry didn't recall intending when he'd cast the spell and he pondered briefly what his subconscious was up to. Leliana had begun smiling as soon as he handed it to her though and she looked distinctly pleased so perhaps his subconscious knew what it was about. It might, he decided, be best not to question it.

"Will it, like the sword, turn back into a branch of its own accord?" She asked.

"Eventually." He replied.

Several minutes later Harry and a much tidier Leliana found themselves approaching the fortress gate. The wall through which it penetrated had to be at least forty feet in height, more than ten in depth, and the metal grating of the portcullis was a foot thick and appeared to be made of iron or steel. The drawbridge was currently lowered and the open gate was guarded by only a small group of young men in armour, not the full plate the warden had worn but instead a melding of leather, chain, and steal plates that offered less protection but was likely easier to move in. Each of them had a sword sheathed across their backs beneath a shield bearing the crest of a grey tower standing atop a red hill, doubtless in honour of the red hue visible in much of the rock and ground throughout the area. The guards at first seemed to be more interested in gossiping than guarding but even so they still noticed the approaching travellers well before they had reached them.

"Good-day." Leliana called out as they approached and the guards looked at each other skeptically before eyeing up the new arrivals.

"Unless you're someone important you might as well turn back and go home." One of them blurted out in reply. He had a raggedly trimmed beard lining the bottom of his face but was otherwise clean shaven, apparently a preferred fashion as two more of the guards were groomed in the same manner though theirs beards were more neatly kept.

The guard next to the first, the only one without a beard, thumped the loud mouth's arm with his fist. The beardless guard was clearly a bit older, perhaps in his mid twenties, and he looked somewhat sheepish as he took over. "Good-day to you as well and I apologize for my friend's ill manners. What he meant to say, good woman, is that the Arlessa is not accepting petitioners from the village today. You might try back tomorrow. Or the next day. Though considering circumstances of late perhaps it would be best if you just came back sometime next week."

While they talked Harry took a quick look at the tactical parchment. He waited for a moment to see if it would begin drawing but it remained stubbornly blank apparently not finding any wards that it could tap into. Harry frowned, surprised that such a bastion would be so unprotected. The use of the map would have given him a strong advantage if anything went wrong and he'd been counting on it to tip the balance in their favour Then again, he thought while looking back at the guards, so far the security force wasn't doing much to impress him.

"I believe you will find that the Arlessa will very much wish to see us. My name is Leliana and this is Harry and we come bearing the ashes of Andraste in hopes that they will restore the Arl to her." She smiled as she said this but not even one of the guards smiled back. Harry began to wonder if there was something Leliana had forgotten to mention.

A third guard, this one shorter and stockier than the others but an overly round face, snorted in response to her statement and rolled his eyes and addressed his fellow guards. "Not another one. I figured once people heard about the last one they'd stop coming."

"What's she – the eighth? Must be the eighth." The last guard asked, a burly man of average height with a slightly weaselly look about him. His comment was filled with disdain.

"Seventh." The other replied with certainty.

"What? No... can't be. What about the dwarf with the..."

"Didn't count. He was just a little confused. Honest mistake."

Leliana looked back and forth between the two guards and frowned when they didn't elaborate further. "Excuse me? Are you implying that..."

The clean shaven guard took over again for his compatriots. "You would be the seventh person to arrive claiming possession of the healing ashes of Andraste in the last week. Word's gotten out concerning the quest undertaken by the Arl's knights. Not that my compatriots are suggesting you might be trying to take advantage of the Arlessa but if you were, I might strongly encourage you to go home. The Arlessa is not in a forgiving mood as of late and neither are her remaining knights or the Arl's brother, Bann Teagan."

Harry could see where this was going but he knew full well that Leliana would not be kept from her self appointed task. He spoke up in hopes of moving things along. "And did the Arlessa wish to see these other claimants?"

"Well, yes admittedly she did. However I suspect the last one wished she hadn't."

"I can understand why she'd be upset.." Leliana began only to be cut off.

"Begging your pardon but she had the old elf flogged when his ashes didn't work. I suspect her reaction to another false claim may be far worse." The man shuffled uncomfortably in his armour

So much for safe haven, Harry mused, Leliana had really over sold the place. He leaned close and asked her quietly, "Just how sure are you about these ashes?"

She shot him a dirty look and then turned back to the guard. "I'm sorry but we have come very far and cannot turn away now."

The guard frowned but acquiesced. "If you insist then. I'll escort you to the keep. Be it on your own head, as it were."

Leliana smiled in relief. "Thank you. Please lead on."

The clean shaven guard turned to lead them up to the castle and the one with the unkempt beard followed behind them. The second pair stood back on watch but Harry could still make out their bantering as the group began making their way toward the second gate.

"Shame." Spoke the stockier of the guards.

"True." Replied the other.

"Waste of a very pretty woman."

"Very pretty. Don't see hair like that often. Would make someone a fine wife."

"Well, done is done. How's about five coppers says their heads are on those spikes up there before sundown tomorrow."

"I'm not taking that bet. " The second guard grumbled in reply.

A pause.

"Five coppers says that his head is mounted on the right and hers is on the left?" The stocky guard tried again.

A moment of hesitation.

"Make it ten."

The fortress was built with a layered defence and you needed to pass through at least three gates before you could reach the keep itself. The first two gates weren't more than fifty feet apart and as they walked towards the second Harry leaned close to Leliana and talked softly so only she could hear him. "Shelter and safe haven?"

"Oui. The guards were enjoying themselves at our expense. The Arlessa would never treat petitioners in such a fashion." She whispered back sounding confident in her assertion. Harry had his doubts.

"The two that stayed behind were just betting on whose head would have the north-most spike." They reached the second gate quickly and stopped briefly while their escort conversed with the two soldiers guarding it.

Leliana stiffened. "How much?"

"Ten coppers. If it makes you feel any better they thought it would be a shame. You that is. Neither of them really seemed to care what happened to my head." Their escort continued forward and motioned for them to follow.

"The ashes will heal the Arl and we will be made welcome. It will not be required that either of us forfeit our head." Leliana stated with conviction.

"I appreciate your faith in them and I'll admit that whoever set that gauntlet up obviously believed the ashes were real but to be safe, be ready to make a quick exit." He didn't doubt Leliana but he knew she'd never actually seen the ashes heal so much as a paper cut. It was the religious association that really made him nervous. If she'd simply told him they were magic ashes he'd have been far more inclined to accept their advertised power.

"Harry." Leliana began with exasperation. He was beginning to separate from her when she wrapped her arm around his and placed her other hand on it as well as if he were escorting her on an afternoon stroll. "She may have threatened such punishment but she would never enact it."

"Feel free to believe that," Harry responded. She'd inadvertently trapped his wand hand and he felt his tension ratchet up a few notches as a result. "but we should probably allow for the possibility that her mood has taken a turn for the worse since you last saw her."

Leliana hesitated with her reply and Harry's bad feelings about the entire scenario started to grow along with his suspicion.

Harry leaned closer and whispered harshly into her ear. "Leliana. The Arlessa, was she already in a bad mood when you last saw her?"

"Possibly." Leliana conceded.

"And that would be because...?"

"Because Marcus had just killed her son." Leliana whispered the reply and glanced down in shame.

"Of course he did. Because that's just about the worst thing he could have done. Bloody fantastic." Harry raised his voice on the curse and their first escort looked over his shoulder with a frown. Harry waved him away with his free hand and the guard turned back just as they reached the third gate. He conversed with the men watching over it and behind them the road could be seen leading to a final gate with a courtyard and the keep beyond it.

Leliana squeezed his arm and tried to explain. She sounded quite emphatic but he wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or trying to convince herself. "Her son was possessed by a demon and most deemed it necessary to to slay it before it could take the lives of any others."

"Most?" They were escorted through the third gate and Harry noticed that the last one appeared completely undefended. For a fortress of this size it had so far seemed horribly undermanned. That was going to make it easier to escape quickly but did make him wonder how its residents planned to hold off the darkspawn when they came.

"Yes. Her son had been subdued and some suggestions were made including that it might be possible to kill the demon without harming the boy with the aid of the circle of magi. Marcus dismissed such suggestions as too dangerous and took the child's life himself. The Arlessa begged for her son's life and when he would not spare it she demanded that she be allowed to make the blow herself. Marcus cared not for anything she had to say."

"How old was..."

"Too young."

"And you were there with Marcus when..."

"Yes. I did not agree with him," Leliana replied and he could hear the lament in her next statement. "I argued against it, but in the end I did nothing to stop him."

Harry shook his head and looked away. He hadn't been there and he knew nothing of these demons she'd mentioned but still, the scenario she'd presented was disturbing. "I can't believe the warden walked out of here alive afterward"

"When a possession occurs killing the possessed is the accepted practice. As a grey warden of noble birth - none could punish Marcus for his actions. We had also just freed the castle from the demon's minions and the Arlessa was in no position to stop him or to retaliate."

"But this was a while ago?"

Leliana tipped her head. "Nearly two weeks. We journeyed to Denerim first in search of the scholar Genetivi in hopes that he could lead us to the urn. When we tracked down his abode the brother was gone but his notes remained and in turn led us to Haven."

"Plenty of time to work up a good bit of resentment then," Harry mused, "And if she really wanted to..."

"The Arlessa is the final arbiter of justice in the Arl's absence," Leliana conceded. "She could judge us as she sees fit if she deems we have committed a crime."

"Brilliant. Can't wait to meet her." And then run from her, probably killing half her contingent of soldiers in the process. Harry had never had to kill anyone who didn't really deserve it and these guards were just doing their jobs. If it came down to it he knew he was capable of it but he wasn't sure how he would feel afterward He really hoped he wouldn't have to find out.

As they walked across the castle courtyard and towards the main doors Harry took careful note of the interior defences There were archers manning some of the guard towers and while they were focused outwards they'd have a clear view of the courtyard if they needed it. Several men in plate mail armour conversed quietly off to the side and he suspected that these were some of the knights that had been mentioned. Otherwise the castle looked almost abandoned.

Finally they were led inside and to an antechamber where they were bid to wait. It was a small room and mostly empty except for a few benches to sit on and a table in the corner. "If you could please wait here I will inform the Arlessa of your arrival."

The clean shaven guard turned to leave and hesitated for a moment before looking back at Leliana hopefully.

"Unless of course you've changed your mind?" He prompted.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man. He leaned over and commented playfully to Leliana, "I think he likes you."

Leliana let go of Harry's arm and elbowed him in the side forcing them apart.

"But of course you haven't." The guard continued glumly. He nodded to the second guard. "Please hand over your weapons. I promise you'll have them back if you leave."

With that he headed into the castle interior.

"Alright. You heard him. Please place your weapons on the table." The remaining guard removed his sword from its sheath and rested it on his shoulder as he waited. His expression made it clear that he half expected them to try to attack at any moment and was just waiting for an excuse to try his weapon out. Harry barely resisted the urge to turn the man into a bulldog. A toothless, clawless bulldog of course, it wouldn't do to get mauled.

Leliana nodded to the guard and moved to place her bow, quiver, and sword on the table. Harry knew she had a dagger or two hidden on her person but those she made no move to relinquish. The guard, noticing that Harry hadn't participated, then turned to him with a frown.

"Well?" He grunted and Harry rolled his eyes and reached beneath his robes with his wand hand. After a minute of rummaging he pulled a plain short sword from beneath them. Just from holding it he could tell that the balance would be horrible but never the less he laid it on the table with a smile. The guard continued to stare at him with suspicion.

"Anything else under there?" Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes again and took off his robes. He spun around, showing his lack of further armaments, before putting them back on. The guard nodded skeptically and moved to stand by the door with his sword still bare, the tip now resting on the ground and his hands clasping the hilt. Harry leaned up against the wall to wait and Leliana moved to stand beside him.

"I had thought you relied only on your wand. Why did you not use the sword when we faced the darkspawn?" She whispered.

"That's not a sword." Harry tilted his head towards the table. "That's a granola bar that thinks its a sword."

She looked back at it with renewed interest.

They weren't left to wait for long. When the guard returned Leliana was happily finishing off the additional granola bar Harry had fished out of his pocket for her when he became worried that she might start gnawing on the sword. Both of the guards stood watching very intently as Leliana licked her fingers to clean off the sticky residue from the last morsel and Harry felt compelled to clear his throat to get them back on track. They both appeared sheepish but Harry just sent them an understanding look. Stones in glass houses and all that. Besides which Harry was pretty sure Leliana was doing it on purpose – the granola bars really weren't all that messy.

The room they had waited in was not, as it turned out, far from their final destination. Harry and Leliana were led down a short corridor into a large hall where several men of varying ages wearing plate mail argued with another dressed in shirt and breaches of obvious quality.

"Allow me to ride out and demand more support from the nearby banns. It is the only way..." Argued one of the armoured men and Harry suspected they were the knights that the guards had hinted at. He was tall and obviously solidly built with a very large sword on his back that he undoubtedly knew how to use. He had a plain face with a few wrinkles and several faint scars that spoke of old battles. Harry decided that if it came to a fight this was the man he'd be attacking first. The ageing warrior just looked more dangerous than the rest of them. He wouldn't relish doing so and he had no intention of starting anything but neither would he let some noble woman have them killed out of spite.

"We can demand nothing from the banns. They have concerns of their own to deal with." It was the one without armour who replied and he reminded Harry a bit of Cedric Diggory. He had a solid bearing and strong features with a partial beard that framed his mouth but left the rest of his face bare. He turned, noticing Harry and Leliana's entrance for the first time. "We will finish this discussion later in any event. It would appear we have guests."

The guards had stayed at the doorway leaving Harry and Leliana to step into the room by themselves. The man merely glanced at Harry before dismissing him and then turned his gaze to Leliana. He had to squint at her for several moments before the light of recognition shone in his eyes. "I know you. You were one of the warden's followers. Yet you arrive without Marcus Cousland and in strange company. Tell me, what news do you bring?"

"Bann Teagan." Leliana began. It sounded like a title from the way she said it, not a name. "We come bearing the sacred ashes in hopes that they may heal the Arl."

"You do? Wonderful!" Teagan responded a smile blossoming on his face. It didn't last long and he continued in a suspicious tone. "Yet I cannot imagine Marcus leaving another to present his prize, not when he seemed so desperate to gather my brother's support. Tell me - what of the warden?"

"Marcus and I had a parting of ways." Leliana replied carefully.

Teagen scowled at the vague response. "An obvious evasion. What is it you do not wish to tell me."

Leliana hesitated, clearly not sure how to proceed and for some reason not wanting to speak ill of the warden. Harry had no such reluctance.

"The warden tried to kill her." Harry interjected catching the Bann's attention. Leliana sent him a look of annoyance.

Bann Teagan examined Harry before turning to stare hard at Leliana. "Is this true archer?"

She cleared her throat before speaking. "This is true."

Bann Teagan growled and paced several paces away before turning with iron in his voice. "Enough. You clearly do not wish to discuss what has happened but I will hear it all from you. Why did the warden try to kill you and who is your new companion, this scholar who dresses so strangely?"

Harry did his best not to be offended. Some people just had no sense of style, it wasn't their fault. He had been surprised when Bann Teagan referred to him as a scholar but that probably had something to do with his glasses.

"The warden," Leliana began. She hesitated and again Harry wondered why she would try to protect the warden. He could think of no explanation for her reluctance. "He was convinced by a man to destroy the ashes in exchange for instruction in a dark power. When I realized what he intended I sought to protect the urn but only Alistair might have sided with me and he had been left guarding our camp."

If it were not for Harry I would have died then and the ashes would have been destroyed. He chanced upon us and saved my life when the warden was about to take it. Between us we made our escape and we came here with the greatest possible speed."

The Bann frowned and looked at Harry with renewed interest. "Marcus sought my brother's support. He has clearly become a hard man but I can't believe he would..."

"I believe he meant to take a pinch of the ashes for your brother and then destroy the rest. Thus he would accomplish both his goals. I could not stand aside and let him commit such a sin. " She turned to Harry and looked pointedly at his robes. Realizing her intent he retrieved the urn and passed it to her. The Bann stared in wonder as the fair sized piece of pottery appeared from inside a much smaller pocket.

"How did..." Bann Teagan began before shaking his head. "A matter for later. But I think I would very much like to hear your story as well scholar. There is apparently more to you than it first appears."

"Oh I'm very boring. I'm just a man with some very big pockets," Harry responded glibly. The Bann grinned briefly at the response, amused even if he clearly did not believe him. He then turned back to the urn and hesitantly held out his hands.

"May I? I promise, they will be safe in my care." Bann Teagan's words were said with the levity of a solemn promise.

"A pinch is all that should be needed." Leliana explained as she carefully handed it over. "But please, Bann Teagan, I must have it back after you have revived the Arl. Marcus saw to it that the protections that have kept it safe through the ages were destroyed. There is only one place in Thedas where I believe it will be protected and cherished as it should be and I mean to take it there myself."

"I understand. It will be done but for now I must go at once to Eamon's side. We shall see if the Urn's healing powers live up to their reputation. Stewart!" The name was shouted at the most polite of the guards they had met who was still standing at the entrance. He stood at attention and nodded to indicate he was listening. "Please see that our guests have their weapons returned and then have servants see to them. They should be granted all hospitality while they are with us."

Their weapons were returned as ordered and a servant was found to ferry them through the castle. She was a pretty young woman with long brown hair wearing a simple dress of brown and blue that left her shoulders bare but with a skirt that reached almost to her ankles. She kept glancing back to stare at Harry's face for some reason only to blush and face forward again when Leliana giggled, for some reason finding these actions amusing. He started talking quietly to Leliana just to divert her attention. "So. No need for that daring escape apparently."

"Disappointing is it not?" Leliana sighed dramatically. "I can just picture it. A chase through the castle after which I would hold off the guards while you used your magic to destroy one of the exterior walls. We would then fly off on your broom with the soldiers staring after us in disbelief. But alas, not every tale can be one of adventure."

Harry blinked. Leliana was clearly making a joke but it really wasn't a bad plan. "I had something a little more subtle in mind but that probably would have worked too."

"You suggested I be ready for, as you put it, a quick exit. I like that. A quick exit. A strange turn of phrase." Leliana mused on it a moment longer before turning serious. "You also told me that you trusted me and yet your faith was so easily shaken. I am very disappointed in you."

"What? But... I never meant..." Finally noticing the slight grin on Leliana's face he rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't mess with a bloke like that Leliana. Very unkind."

"You deserve at least some punishment." She replied impishly. "Perhaps next time you will not be so quick to doubt me."

They turned a corner and another pair of servants, both dressed the same as their guide, scurried from their path. "Why did you try to protect Marcus?"

Leliana chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking carefully before she replied. "I may despise the man but I cannot deny he is dedicated to stopping the blight even if I do not countenance his methods. He is one of the last two grey wardens in Fereldan and I fear that without the Arl's support he will never be able to complete his task and it is an important one. He seeks to invoke the grey warden treaties and unite the land in defence against the blight."

The servant leading them stopped in a long hall and she turned to them hesitantly. She spoke to them both but it was on Harry that her eyes rested. "I'm sorry but Stewart wasn't very specific. Will you be needing one room or two?"

Harry imagined his surprise at the question was obvious but Leliana merely raised an eyebrow at the servant who blushed again in response. "I believe two rooms will suffice, though we will wish to share a meal in his room in perhaps four hours time."

The servant curtsied and motioned them to two adjacent doors. Leliana asked for a bath to be sent up for her immediately and the servant looked expectantly at Harry only for him to wave her off. Given that he doubted there was anything resembling indoor plumbing he figured there was no reason to put them to the extra effort. He could magic something up with far less effort.

* * *

It was starting to grow dark when a much refreshed Leliana wandered into his room and found him deep in research. He'd had a quick bath in a transfigured tub with real soap and afterward pulled out the darklord's journal to see if he could make any sense of it and so far his initial successes had been limited. The first thing he'd learned was that the darklord, while clearly a genius, had also been very insane. That hadn't been a surprise to Harry as he figured it was practically a prerequisite for the position . Unfortunately that insanity had leaked into his writing and his descriptions often rambled off into bizarre tangents while his observations and conclusions generally came in completely the wrong order. Consequently Harry found himself going back and forth through the pages trying to piece together an understanding of the intricacies that had brought him to Thedas.

One thing he'd discerned was that the sacrifices at the beginning of the ritual had been for the sole purpose of creating the wraiths and it was their creation that had somehow provided the initial magical power for the circle. Their use as a security system had been more of a side benefit than an intended effect. Additionally from what he could tell using the victims' blood to draw the circle had just been pure grandstanding, paint would have done the job equally as well. The downside to all of this was that if he ever wanted to use the same ritual he'd have to find a way to do so without murdering a large number of people and without leaving a host of wraiths behind him when he left. Harry had always had good instincts for magic but this was the kind of work he had never excelled in and he'd quickly found himself becoming discouraged. He wished for a moment for the aid of lost friends but pushed aside the longing as he had many times before.

When Leliana entered Harry quickly cleared away his work. She looked at it curiously but made no mention of it as she relaxed with a sigh into the seat across from him. The chairs provided had been hard and uncomfortable and he hadn't wanted to conjure more comfortable chairs as he figured that would attract obvious attention, but he hadn't seen the harm in adding some charms to the ones already provided. After he'd finished putting his research away Leliana spoke. "I promised you a story. Shall I begin my tale now or would you like me to wait until dinner?"

"How about a few questions first?" Harry replied.

"Ask. I will do my best to answer."

Harry considered for a moment. There were so many things he wanted to know. He finally decided to start with something that had been bothering him ever since they'd been shown to their rooms. "Why did the woman who showed us to our rooms keep staring at me?"

Leliana's eyes widened and she laughed. "You do not think it is because she finds you handsome?"

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Your spectacles are uncommon in Thedas but in Fereldan they are truly rare, mostly worn by ageing scholars to allow them to read their books. To see them on one so young is unheard of. That is the first reason."

"That makes sense I suppose." Harry would have to make sure he refreshed the charms protecting his glasses regularly. The idea of not being able to replace them was terrifying and he had little faith in his ability to transfigure a replacement pair with the right curvature to the glass.

"I'm sure she was also deciding how best to find her way into your bed. If you do not want company tonight you may wish to ensure that your door is firmly locked." Leliana continued with a grin.

"Wait. What?" Harry sat up and frowned. "But she doesn't have a clue who I am."

"True. But you have been declared a guest of the Bann. Your apparel while strange is clearly of fine quality which suggests wealth. Finally she most likely does find you handsome." Leliana seemed to take amusement in his discomfort. "Often the serving girls in a place like this seek more than employment. Young noblemen and knights who bed them will often keep them happy with expensive trinkets and if they are truly lucky they may even find one willing to lower themselves to marry a commoner."

"So I should double check my locking charms tonight. Good to know."

"You would not respond favourably to a young woman sneaking into your room tonight?" Leliana prodded him and he found his thoughts turn, not towards the servant they were discussing, but to the woman smiling in front of him. She laughed at whatever she saw on his face before sobering. "I had not asked. Did you leave a life behind when you came here? A family that waits for you? If so I am truly sorry and will do everything I can to help you return to them."

"I... no. I don't expect there's anyone who will miss me too much." Harry responded. She waited expectantly and he finally admitted. "Not anymore."

She reached for his hand where it lay on table. The warmth of her fingers was a brief reminder that there, in that moment, he was not alone and he missed it when she pulled away. "I am very sorry to hear this but it does make my request sit lighter on my conscience."

Harry sent her a questioning look. "The urn. You tried to send me to, what was it, the Divine? You also mentioned to the Bann that you wished to take them someplace for safety."

"Oui. The Divine leads the Chantry from within the Grand Cathedral in Val Royeaux." She leaned forward as she began but Harry had to stop her.

"Chantry?" It wasn't a term he was familiar with.

"Oui. The Chantry." At his lack of comprehension she elaborated. "It was to the chantry that you brought us in Lothering."

"Chantry... church?" Harry understood what she was getting at. "The Chantry is what you call your religion."

"And it is only in the Grand Cathedral with the Divine herself that I would trust the ashes to be kept safe." She stated before continuing with less surety. "But there are obstacles to reaching her."

It sounded to Harry like Leliana was suggesting the equivalent of walking up and asking for an audience with the pope. "I take it access will be a problem."

"That as well but I am more concerned with what will happen if I am recognized. I am afraid to admit that I am no longer entirely welcome within the borders of Orlais and Val Royeaux will be particularly dangerous for me."

When she didn't explain Harry felt compelled to prompt her. "Leliana if you're asking me to help you then you're going to have to tell me. "

"I am most likely still being sought on charges of treason." She admitted.

Harry had enough experience with untrustworthy governments not to immediately assume the charge was legitimate. He simply nodded at her to continue, sure that there was more to the story.

"In Orlais, I was a bard." Leliana began hesitantly. "Bards are entertainers in the noble courts but also often something more. They fill the roll of spies and such for the nobles as they play their endless games."

"Assassins?" Harry did his best to keep his question neutral but he found himself slightly shaken. He remembered how unconcerned she had been after putting a dagger in the witch's back, a woman she had apparently travelled with, and felt a sudden itch between his own shoulder blades. For a moment he wondered how much he had seen of her had been a lie, an attempt to manipulate him. Then he remembered how he had met her as she stood before the warden, decrying his actions, willing to die to protect a piece of pottery filled with ancient remains. An understanding of the woman in front of him crystallized in that moment. Leliana, he realized, was a repentant sinner.

"When it was called for." She watched him for a moment, looking for condemnation in his eyes and when she did not find it she continued more sedately. "My teacher, Marjolaine, my... friend. She set me a task and I carried it out. I killed a man and brought her everything which he carried."

As she spoke she continued to watch Harry carefully but he sat silently taking it all in. He now understood better why she had learned to forgive so easily. She had forgiven Sten for the murders he had committed and for his attempt to take her life. She had forgiven Harry for the night of torture his magic had inflicted upon her. Leliana, he suspected, had desperately searched for a forgiveness of her own. He wondered if she had found it.

"I did not know this man. I knew not why she wished him dead and I did not ask. That she wanted it was all that I required, besotted fool that I was." Besotted? Harry found it an interesting choice of word but didn't comment. "He had sealed documents on his body and I could not resist opening them. They were proof that Marjolaine had been selling information to other countries. Intrigue within the houses is expected but to commit treason?"

Leliana shook her head and slumped in her chair before continuing. "I was afraid for her life if she were discovered. I brought my fears to her only to have her to brush them aside and tell me her guilt was in the past."

"You became a loose end." Harry commented.

"Loose end?" Leliana asked.

"An inconvenient complication." Harry clarified.

Leliana nodded glumly. "I had never been more surprised than when I was arrested by the Orlesian guards. They had the documents I retrieved for Marjorlaine, altered by her own hand to make me appear the traitor. As I soon discovered they take a dim view of such things."

"But you escaped, and now we're here, and for some reason you believe you have to go back." Harry commented as she lingered in contemplation. "Couldn't we just as easily give the urn to the local chantry and let them see that it reaches its destination?"

"Ferelden may have protected my person but it was the Maker who saved my soul." Leliana responded fervently. "If he has seen fit to bring the urn into my hands I must find it within myself to see the task carried through to the very end. Our paths are not always ours to choose, no matter where they may lead us."

Harry found himself forced to agree. While not a man of religion his course in life had often felt too far beyond his control for him to discount that fate had played a part in it. He should have died a hundred times over and Voldemort should have won the war, taken control of Britain, and gone on to kill untold numbers throughout Europe. Instead Harry had lived through the insanity of Hogwarts and survived the following war even as his closest friends and allies died beside him. He had been there at the right time, in the right place, to end the dark lord Voldemort's reign before it had the chance to begin and he could not deny that some greater destiny had played a part in events. He also didn't believe in coincidence and that he'd arrived where he had, at such a crucial moment, was just another turn of events in his life that defied casual belief.

"I will understand if you do not wish to aid me in this Harry. You desire to find your way home and owe me nothing." Leliana began morosely and Harry realized he'd spent too long in silent contemplation.

"This Val Royeaux. Good tourist spot?" Harry asked whimsically.

Leliana looked confused by his comment. "Tourist?"

"You know. Touring the sites. Seeing what there is to see. I imagine that church, chantry, whatever you want to call it. The grand cathedral? It has to be pretty impressive."

"Oui." Leliana began to smile. "I did not have a true appreciation for it when I was last in Val Royeaux but even then I stopped to wonder at its beauty."

"I did promise you another flight and I'm not exactly in a hurry to be anywhere." She beamed at his response and he suspected that the only reason she wasn't hugging the life out of him was because of the table that separated them. The idea sounded appealing but he resisted the urge to vanish the table.

"Afterward I promise I will do everything I can to help you return to your home." She stated enthusiastically. "Perhaps we can gain access to one of the circle libraries. I suspect that if there is anything written that may help you that it would be found there. The trick will not be in entering but in leaving again once we are done."

"Circle?"

"The Circle of Magi has many towers where most mages live. I have never seen the inside of one but have heard that they have wondrous libraries filled with arcane knowledge."

The sensation of hope entered his chest and for the first time he felt a sense of optimism towards his task. It was exactly the sort of resource he needed. He supposed he could understand why they might protect that knowledge from muggles but surely when he demonstrated that he had his own brand of magic they'd become far more accommodating. He had a small library of his own sitting in one of his pockets and he couldn't imagine any such group not being open to an exchange of information.

A knock sounded on the door and then it opened to reveal a pair of servants. The young woman who had first led them to their rooms was one of them and she sent a sultry smile at Harry as she laid the dishes in front of him. Harry swallowed uncomfortably when her hand brushed along his arm and Leliana grinned as she watched with amusement. When they left he found the cutlery familiar, simple knives and forks, and the food wouldn't have been out of place at a table in England. Potatoes, carrots, and something that he suspected was a mutton chop sat on each plate and large mugs of frothing ale had been placed beside them. A pitcher with more of the beverage had also been left behind.

Harry hesitantly took a sip from the mug and decided he liked it. Served warm it was pleasantly spiced and he was pretty sure he could detect a hint of cinnamon. "So. If our destination is Orlais... I assume that's to the south-east?"

Leliana ignored the piece of meat to begin eating the vegetables. He couldn't help but notice that she appeared to have impeccable table manners. "Non. Orlais is to the west on the far side of the Frostback Mountains."

Harry froze, a small roasted potato half way to his open mouth. He put his fork back onto the plate still skewering the vegetable and watched as she contentedly chewed on some carrot. Harry had never spent much time learning geography but even he knew that France shouldn't be to the west unless he'd made some glaringly false assumptions. "It isn't to the South-East, separated by an ocean?"

"Of course not." Leliana laughed at first but stopped after a moment, her eyes widening. "Is this something you can do easily where you come from? Cross the oceans themselves? It is said that the Qunari came from over the oceans far to the north but the truth of it is known only to them."

"That's... yes we can." Another discrepancy. There shouldn't be much of anything to the North unless the Qunari had come from the arctic. He force himself to stop talking and take a few bites of his meal before continuing. "Leliana, your accent, it's clearly french."

"Non." She disputed after swallowing some of the ale. He noticed that she'd still barely touched the mutton. "I am not familiar with this word, french, I was raised in Orlais."

"And in Orlais they speak..." Harry prompted.

"Orlesian." Yet even as she said the word she said it with an accent that sounded very french to Harry's ears.

"Leliana what language are we talking right now?" He pressed scenting a mystery.

"It has many names. The common tongue, the King's tongue, or often the trade tongue." she replied. "It was a language brought to men by the dwarves long ago."

Harry blinked. "Dwarves? You're saying dwarves developed the English language here? And when you say dwarves..."

"I mean dwarves. You do not know of them?" She looked surprised. "They are short, stout, and live mostly beneath the earth. They are great builders and miners and there is almost constant trade between Orzamar and the surface world."

Harry shook his head as he tried to wrap his head around the concept. He didn't believe for a second that a completely different race that lived in the ground had developed a language identical to modern English by accident. "Where does Orlesian come from then?"

"From Orlais of course."

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Harry finished off his mutton chop which had been over cooked but was still filling and Leliana ate the last of her potatoes and proceeded to poke at her mutton with a displeased frown. Gathering his thoughts Harry took another drink from his mug and began to share his confusion. "I've been making some assumptions. I figured that this place, Thedas, was like my world in many ways. I assumed that up to a point our worlds were very similar and then the two just split, history going in different directions somewhere in the distant past. Different worlds but still similar enough to explain the fact that I showed up here not only understanding the language but speaking it with a somewhat similar accent. I figured that Ferelden was just a different name for an altered version of England."

"But you no longer believe it to be so." She stated, her brows furrowed in thought. Giving up on the over cooked piece of meet she picked up her mug and relaxed back into her seat.

"Not if Orlais is to the west. Unless we're in Southern Germany or Austria." Harry mused. "Leliana if I gave you some parchment could you draw a map of Thedas?"

Leliana nodded and sat forward in her chair as Harry fished out piece of parchment and a self inking quill set. Several minutes later he sat looking at an incomplete map that stopped at mountain borders to the west and the south, at desert in the southwest, and a forest in the northwest. To the east there was only ocean and to the north lay several large islands after which there was again only more ocean.

If there was any land on Earth that looked like it Harry had never seen it.

"What's to the West and the South?" He asked and Leliana shrugged.

"No one has made it beyond these borders and returned to tell of it."

"Which would make this, as far as you're concerned, the entirety of the known world. We flew from here to here, is that right?" Harry pointed first to where she had marked a village and named it Lothering on the map and then to Redcliffe and she nodded. "That would make it about thirty miles give or take. Blimey, that means this is way too small."

He tried to do the math in his head but anyway he looked at it the entire known world of Thedas couldn't be much bigger than the all of the United Kingdom combined. "Merlin... its hard to believe an area this small developed two languages so different side by side."

"Two? There are more than two languages spoken within the borders of Thedas."

"How many then?"

"I know of at least seven still used in Thedas." Leliana began listing out the languages she knew and pointed on the map to indicate where they were used. "Orlesian in Orlais, Rivaini in Rivain, Ander in the Anderfels, Antivan in Antiva, Teven in the Tevinter Impreium, I'm am unsure what language the Qunari speak but know they have their own, and in the Free Marches, Nevarra, and Ferelden mostly the common tongue is spoken."

"That doesn't make any sense." Harry murmured. His education in both history and geography had been sadly lacking but even he could tell that what she was saying was impossible. "So close together and so small with no geography keeping them apart. Leliana there should only be one language in Thedas. One culture for that matter."

"Such an odd thing to say." She replied. "How do you determine what should be? I am telling you what is"

"Then there's the other oddity." Harry continued undeterred, "The common tongue is identical to English and I'm pretty sure that Orlesian is identical to French. Do you speak any other languages Leliana?"

"I'm afraid not. I do know a very few words in Antivan though I'm afraid most of them are somewhat vulgar." She mused and after a moment made a few short lyrical statements in another language. He couldn't recognize the words but the intonation and phrasing sounded suspiciously similar to Italian. "If we speak the same languages then perhaps it is simply the work of the Maker. "

"Too easy." Harry replied bluntly. While he didn't have a better explanation that didn't mean their wasn't one. "And Antivan sounds suspiciously like it might be Italian which is yet another language from my world."

"I'm sorry Harry if this upsets you but there is little history from the Ancient times and none from before them. Whatever answers you desire on this subject are most likely long lost. We should speak of other things."

"It isn't so much that it upsets me. It's just a mystery." Harry replied "Mysteries tend to come back later and try to kill me so I've gotten in the habit of solving them."

"If it is a mystery then it is one which belongs to all of Thedas and has existed for thousands of years. I doubt it will impact upon our lives in any way." She leaned forward and refilled her mug from the pitcher. "Now. I believe I promised you a story and I have been horribly remiss."

Harry did his best to forget the mystery for the moment, though he had no doubt he would be revisiting it later. He sat back to listen as Leliana tried to explain to him exactly what he'd gotten himself into the middle of. As she talked her words flowed rhythmically, painting a vivid picture of the events which she described. She had said bards were entertainers and clearly she had been a story teller. He wondered if she had she also been a musician.

"So this general..." Her tale had taken over an hour to tell and afterward Harry sipped at another mug of ale while trying to keep it all straight in his mind. "He betrayed the king, blamed it on the grey wardens and left them all to get slaughtered at the fortress in the south. So now the army that was meant to protect the kingdom is broken, this general has taken what is left of it and set out to establish himself as the country's new ruler, and all the while darkspawn are spreading in the south and slaughtering anyone they come across?"

"I used to believe he was a hero who loved his country. Others still believe it. Either this was always a falsehood or he has lost all sense of reason." She clenched her hands around the now empty mug. "It is through his actions that Lothering was abandoned to its destruction and many of its people killed."

Harry shook his heads at the insanity of it. "So all the other grey wardens are dead and somehow Marcus and Alistair, the two newest wardens of the bunch no less, were left running all over the country trying to force everyone to abide by some treaty of mutual defence - humans, mages, dwarves and elves, though what good elves would be at fighting darkspawn I can't imagine. You joined him in Lothering because..."

"Because the Maker instructed me to." She replied calmly.

"Right. Just wanted to make sure I heard that part right." Harry mumbled.

"I believed at the time that my purpose was to help the wardens save Ferelden and stop the blight before it grows beyond control." She shook her head. "Now I fear that my true purpose was to save the urn from Marcus and to protect Andraste's mortal remains from destruction. I fear what that means for Ferelden."

"You didn't mention anything more about the treaties." Harry asked.

"Marcus insisted we first approach Arl Eamon. He believed his support was required to counter Logain. The Arl is popular and his word would go far to counter Logain's falsehoods against the wardens."

"So you saved the Redcliffe Village from inferi, cleared the castle, followed the trail of the ashes to the capital, what was it called again?"

"Denerim."

"Right Denerim. Then off to the freezing mountains where you massacred a town full of cultists..."

"While I regret their deaths they were all mad and fearless." Leliana sat up abruptly and answered back with indignation "They worshipped the dragon and..."

"I'm sorry Leliana." Harry stopped her realizing it had been a poor choice of words. "You don't have to explain. I've encountered more than my share of fanatics and it never goes well."

Leliana nodded, mollified, and sat back again.

"That led you to the tomb, and that's where I joined the story." He finished.

"Just as I thought mine was about to end, yes." She replied heavily. "And now that I have told you my story, and you have told me my story, perhaps you will tell me your own?"

Harry smiled grimly. "I think its more than we can get through in one sitting."

"Then tell me your beginning. Hopefully we will have time for the rest later." Leliana smiled.

And so that was what Harry did. He considered for a moment telling her of New York, a nameless dark lord, and a portal between worlds, it was more relevant but there was little happiness in that tale and they'd spoken enough of dark tidings already. So instead he told her about an ordinary eleven year old boy who lived an ordinary life in an ordinary town only to one day wake up and find out that the world wasn't so ordinary after all. He told her of the Dursley's flight from the letters to a little island off the shore and the arrival of the friendly giant who told him the secret that had been following him all his young life. He was a wizard.

"And suddenly it all made sense." Harry mused to a wide eyed Leliana. She'd giggled when he told her of the letters flooding the house through every opening, of his early bouts with accidental magic, and though he hadn't mentioned the cupboard under the stairs she'd frowned every time he attempted to gloss over the irrational behavior of his relatives. "I was a wizard."

"Your aunt and uncle. They were not kind to you were they?" Leliana asked hesitantly.

Harry kept his silence for a moment before answering quietly. "No. I have never once heard the Dursley's described as kind by anyone, least of all myself."

"It is a wonderful tale Harry and you tell it well. If that is merely how it begins then I cannot wait to hear more but I suspect that as little sleep as I managed last night that you had even less." She stood and he groggily pushed himself to his feet as well. Exhaustion and the ale had both done their part and now that he looked for it he could see that he wasn't the only one in need of rest. He walked her to the door and she hesitated before opening it. "Do you plan to let her in when she comes?"

"She?" Harry asked.

"The servant girl."

"She wouldn't actually just..."

"I'm sure she would." Leliana replied calmly. She looked at him and he wondered if he'd missed some hidden message from the servant that Leliana had not. Leliana seemed certain that the offer would be made and even if she was right he couldn't quite figure out why she was so interested. He didn't get the sense she would judge him either way just that she was curious how he would respond.

"For all that she knows - I could be married." He pointed out only for her to smirk.

"I do not think it would matter to her. In my experience few noblemen are true to their vows when far from their wives." Harry did his best not to wonder which experiences she was referring to.

"It works a little differently with wizards." Harry responded solemnly. Marriage vows between witches and wizards were bound by magic, nearly unbreakable, and the consequences of violating one were always dire.

"You have not yet answered my question." Leliana replied but he could tell from the look in her eyes that his response had intrigued her. He began to wonder just what kind of debauchery she had been witness to when she worked her way among the Orlesian nobility.

"Then my answer is that I intend to lock this door with my wand and sleep through the night and even if this castle is attacked by dragons I expect I will not wake before morning."

Leliana considered him a moment before her face lit into a smile. "Then I wish you good dreams Harry. May the Maker watch over your rest."

She left his room and made her way to hers and he watched from the hall as she glanced at him one last time, still smiling, before she entered her room and then closed her door. He cast a modified locking charm on it, one which would break if she turned the handle from within but until then would prevent anyone from entering. Still unsure just what that last conversation had really been about Harry then returned to his own room.

Several hours later someone tried to turn the handle of his door but spelled with a well cast locking charm the door didn't budge. Giving up the visitor then knocked softly on the door so as not to wake anyone but the occupant of the room. They waited a bit and, when no response was forthcoming, knocked again slightly louder.

Harry, deep in exhausted sleep, never even stirred.

Authors Notes :

Once again - thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. With every chapter I put out I find myself wondering if people will like it, hate it, be bored to tears by it, etc, so feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

I'm deliberately trying to keep this story accessible to people who don't know the game – so those who do will already know quite a bit of the back-story in this chapter. Hopefully I managed to go over those bits without making them boring. I did borrow a few lines of dialogue from the game this but only a few. The ones I did take tended to be adjusted to my purpose.

Now, for those who might debate my interpretation of Thedas geography, keep going – if you're fine with it the way I interpreted it or just plain don't care then don't bother reading the rest of the notes :) This next section is me trying to avoid getting a dozen reviews claiming that Thedas is bigger than it really is. -

I spent a fair bit of time on the internet trying to piece this together. The game clearly models itself after Europe and I believe the game creators have stated this. However the maps they put out combined with the time frames quoted for some of the more important events (such as a two day forced march between Redcliffe and Denerim) indicate that the landmass MUST be much smaller than Europe. One map put out by Electronics Arts has distance markers on the borders and in a convincing forum debate people came to the conclusion that the distance between Redcliff and Denerim matched up nicely with the time to make the march if you considered each tick to be 10 miles. For obvious reasons none of the other likely options make sense (100km, 100miles, 1km, 1miles). If you do the math then the known world of Thedas is at most (and this is including a fair bit of water) 210 000 square km. The united kingdom is 243 610 square km. To give some more basis for comparison modern France is roughly 640 000 square km, Italy is roughly 300 000 square km... in short pretty much every country in Europe which is paralleled in Thedas has a square footage larger than all of Thedas – sometimes much larger.

As this chapter should have made obvious - rather than ignoring language and geography discrepancies I'm instead incorporating them into the story – this is not a new decision, I've been planning it from the moment I decided to do away with the language barrier and let Harry freely banter with the natives.

So there you go – that's my canon and I'm sticking to it. Consequently the distance between Lothering and Redcliffe is between 30 and 40 miles on a road but near Redcliffe it passes through rougher terrain. A firebolt can go pretty fast, I believe they list its time to accelerate to 150miles/hour somewhere – so the trip taking only an hour when flying at a leisurely (30-40miles/hour) pace worked for me.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer : Anything you read here that comes from the Harry Potter books is not mine. If it comes from the Dragon Age games then it also isn't mine.

Note 1 : HP Canon up to and including book 5 of Harry Potter is observed. Anything after that is for the most part ignored. As previously stated HP movie canon is ignored.

Note 2 : Dragon Age Canon is mostly based around DA:Origins – beyond that I make no guarantees. I haven't, for example, played Leliana's song so I may inadvertently contradict it somewhere.

Remaining Authors Notes are at the end of the chapter.

Chapter 5

As he slowly regained consciousness the first thing Harry became aware of was the music. It started with the flowing melody of a cello dancing across his consciousness, the soft sounds unobtrusive and barely registering on his sleepy mind. Then the harmonic tones of a bagpipe joined in, offsetting the cello's melody with a syncopated counterpoint. It wasn't until a mellow tenor began crooning along that Harry finally recognized the Weird Sisters ballad for what it was and it was that realization which finished pulling him to full awareness. Once awake he spent several minutes trying to relax and pretend he wasn't, in the hopes that he could fool himself into falling back asleep, but it was hopeless with the music simply too loud and too insistent to be ignored. Bracing himself, Harry opened his eyes and rolled onto to his side to hunt for the source of the disturbance but when he did so an emphatic hissing sound issued from the vicinity of his feet. Looking towards the foot of the bed he found himself confronted with what appeared to be a thoroughly annoyed cat which had at some point decided to drape itself across his ankles.

"Sorry, mate. I know exactly how you feel." Harry offered the oversized ball of ginger fur, sympathizing with its plight. He hadn't been ready to wake up either.

It sniffed at him, unimpressed by his apology, and continued to glare contemptuously. He wasn't sure if it was his movements that it was objecting to or if it simply disapproved of his general existence but either way he found it amusing. He suspected the cat had been aiming for intimidating because it just glared even harder when Harry's lips drew up into a smirk. Apparently having had enough of his disrespect the feline issued a plaintive yowl of discontent, nipped his big toe through the sheets as punishment, and then ambled to the edge of the bed and hopped to the floor, most likely headed off in search of a midnight snack. Harry discarded the vague thought that the cat was oddly familiar and instead refocused on his original mission.

Even with the world slightly out of focus it only took a moment for him to suss out the source of his troubles sitting innocently on the dark mahogany bedside table alongside his forgotten glasses. Groaning, he stretched out his arm and tried randomly smacking the muggle alarm clock a few times to no effect. When that failed to deal with the annoyance he fumbled with his glasses and shoved them onto his face. Finally able to make out some of the controls he spun the volume dial all the way to the left. Expecting silence he was caught off guard when instead he could make out the sound of bare feet shuffling along thick carpet. Rolling to his back again he found himself strangely unsurprised when he recognized the room's other occupant.

At some point Cindy had left the bed and slipped on his black and yellow quidditch jersey and the garment hung on her frame, precariously held together by the few buttons in the middle that she'd bothered to do up. Harry could clearly make out the curves of her firm breasts as his eyes wandered over her tantalizing form and he wasn't sure for a moment if he'd rather she take his shirt off, or keep it on, something about her choice of wardrobe arousing him out of proportion with the amount of exposed skin. In her hand she held a half empty bottle of firewhiskey and she lifted it up and swirled the amber liquid inside before offering the bottle to him with a sultry smile.

He reached out and accepted the whiskey absently but let it settle to the mattress unopened, too focused on the way her hips swayed as she walked to spare much though for the alcohol. Slinking around the bed Cindy undid the jersey one button at a time, pausing on the last of them until she was sure she had his full attention. When his roaming gaze finally settled on her hands she began slowly sliding the jersey to the floor with Harry's eyes following it all the way down and admiring every inch of her slim, athletic figure as it was exposed. His eyes continued to follow her as she slipped beneath the green and silver sheets to lounge contentedly on her side, watching him patiently in return.

Her hair, he noticed, seemed longer than he remembered. That afternoon it has been fairly short, not reaching past her shoulders, and he had the vague thought that it ought to be comically frazzled for some reason. Instead it reached past her hips, straight and silky, and at some point she must have decided to colour charm it because what had once been blonde hair was now a royal purple. She dragged one finger slowly up his chest and he focused instead on the smooth skin of her face and her entrancing hazel eyes. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, tempting him to move closer and taste them with his own.

"What are you waiting for?" She asked. When he began to roll towards her she pulled away. Lying back on the bed Cindy stretched, arching her back enticingly, and his eyes were drawn to where her stiff nipples dimpled the sheet. She moaned and his gaze slid again to her lips. "Take a drink."

Frowning, Harry nonetheless obediently propped himself up against the head board and turned to the forgotten bottle. He took it in his left hand and began to twist open the cap with his right but then he paused, some niggling discomfort prompting him to put the bottle back down unopened. "I think I've had enough. I can barely remember what happened yesterday, anymore and I may start calling myself Merlin and try to start a house-elf rebellion."

Turning back towards her Harry found that she was again lying on her side and he reached out and cupped her face with his left hand, his heart skipping a beat as she then sucked his thumb into her mouth, her tongue swirling around it for a moment before she let the wet digit slide free.

"Don't be ridiculous," she murmured, taking his hand in her own before kissing his palm and then guiding his hand back to the firewhiskey. "You remember everything."

And suddenly he did. The darklord had died when the ritual was interrupted early leaving little more than a puddle of blood and liquified flesh. Harry had watched in morbid disgust as Howard literally stopped to tap dance in the remains, blood soaking into his pants almost up to the knees by the time he was done. The crazy auror had been laughing while he did it. Then Cindy...

Coming back to the present he found himself leaning against the headboard again with the bottle in his hand, raised before him and the cap somehow removed though he didn't remember doing so. He stopped himself with the opening to his lips and instead lifted the bottle up and took a closer look at what he was about to swallow.

The label clearly declared the contents to be Hagrid's Finest Firewhiskey in large block letters written above the picture of a blast ended skrewt with fire spewing out of its arse. The liquid inside was the right shade of amber for the beverage but as he peered into its depths Harry realized for the first time that there were coiled flames roiling throughout it and before his eyes the fire changed colour, the flames becoming instead a strange sickly green ribbon of light that reminded him uncomfortably of the killing curse.

"I think there's something wrong with it." He muttered, the idea of drinking it unsettling. If he drank the firewhiskey he was sure he'd regret it but if he didn't... he shook his head and looked over at Cindy, wondering where he'd gotten the idea that having her and drinking the firewhiskey were somehow inexorably linked.

"Come on Harry," Cindy murmured and he felt her skin sliding across his own as she wrapped herself around him. She leaned close, lips brushing his ear as she purred to him, "Take a drink and I'll show you such a good time. "

Her tongue slid along the shell of his ear and he shivered from the sensation even as a voice in the back of his mind began shouting at him that something was wrong, demanding that he pay attention. Looking down at where her hand was pressed against his chest he found himself wondering about her nails. It took him a moment to figure out why he had focused on them, to understand that they were too long, far too sharp, and painted a very disturbing black colour that seemed very out of character. He looked back to the bottle of firewhiskey and felt his resolve harden. "No. No, I really think I'd rather not."

His head split open and he cried out in agony. He wondered briefly if there were a miniature herd of hippogriffs rampaging through his skull but then he noticed for the first time that Cindy's bedroom didn't have any walls. It ought to have walls he realized, and a ceiling for that matter. One after another all the discrepancies that his mind had somehow ignored began to jump out at him. He became aware that the ground on which the bed sat was a flat rocky plateau and that above him was only a swirling miasma of grey and green smoke. Instead of the sun or moon a black city hovered ominously in the sky, suspended atop a barren island far off in the distance. The city was cold and foreboding, projecting an impression of ominous intent and yet he felt the sudden urge to be there, in that place. He knew it was important somehow that he go to it. Cindy clutched at his shoulder with clawed hands trying to draw his attention back to her but he knew then that whatever was in bed with him it wasn't really Cindy. Cindy was in New York and Harry...

He shook off the creature violently, not turning back to see what it truly looked like. Standing up he felt his dragon-hide robes materialize around him, settling on his shoulders like armour, and his wand appear, vibrating with power in the grip of his right hand. He could sense the creature's influence reaching to pull him back under its spell but it was futile - whatever it was it had caught him unaware, weak and unprepared, but with his will renewed its magic now battered ineffectually against his own. Harry could hear the creature scream at him with Cindy's voice but dismissed it as unimportant. He knew that he had to leave and he knew where he had to go. He turned with deliberation and, holding an image of the distant city firmly in his mind, punched a hole in reality and forced himself through it.

Harry woke up in the guest quarters at Redcliffe Castle with the sun streaming through the small windows and his heart pounding in his chest.

* * *

The journal lay innocently on the table while Harry sat slumped in his chair, wondering what to do about the vile thing. The wraiths, as it turned out, were the proverbial foot in the dimensional doorway and the rest of the ritual was all about taking the crack they formed and forcing that door wide open. They weren't there to provide power, he'd gotten that all wrong - they were there because the very fabric of reality destabilized when they were created. Finding a substitute for a magical power source had been plausible. Finding another way to destabilize reality? Harry suspected that was far beyond his capabilities but unless he figured it out the rest of the ritual was useless to him and the contents of the journal were nothing but malevolent temptation. Of course that was only his first problem.

Looking down at the second book, this one open in his lap, Harry scrutinized again the only other useful resource he'd acquired from the dark lord, "A Treatise on Dimensional Realities". There were two authors credited and both of them had come as a bit of a surprise. Emblazoned below the title was the name Gerald Tobias Grindewald and Harry had immediately wondered if there was any relation to Gellert Grindewald, the most prolific mass murdering wizard of the modern era. Gerald had been credited posthumously and the second author Priscilla Prewett had apparently taken it upon herself to publish the work in 1578, sometime after Gerald's death.

Flipping the book to the fifth chapter Harry tried to understand Grindewald's obvious enthusiasm. A world without oxygen? Giant amoebas? Grindewald briefly mentioned that two of his assistants had died investigating that particular dimension. The first hadn't gotten a bubble head charm up fast enough and had suffocated while the second had become dinner for one of the natives. The casual dismissal of both their lives as unimportant made it clear why this particular book had never landed on the shelves of Flourish and Blotts.

Harry flipped to the next chapter. This one described a dimension ruled by some kind of vampire-like creature on a world where humans existed but were treated like cattle. Three more assistants had been lost there. He flipped ahead again and found himself reading about a world that had paralleled Earth exactly until the time of Merlin at which point alien parasites had invaded and taken over. One assistant had apparently gone through the portal, had a slug crawl into her brain, and tried to come back and conquer yet another Earth. Grindewald had been thrilled. The assistant, Harry imagined, had probably been less so.

It kept going like that. A dimension that was a barren wasteland without any signs of life was followed by a dimension from which an entire group of assistants he'd sent through returned completely and utterly mad and babbling about tentacles. There was a dimension filled with nothing but dementors and there was another one where the world was an endless dessert inhabited by giant worms that moved fluidly beneath the sandy terrain. Grindewald had devoted hundreds of pages to dozens of dimensions that he'd studied and every one of them was worse than the last. He also provided all the necessary information to target each and every one of the discussed dimensions, just in case the reader was feeling a bit suicidal and needed some help offing themselves.

What Grindewald didn't do was write about how to actually create a doorway between dimensions. He claimed that there were dozens of viable methods and Harry felt he could assume that at least one of them didn't involve creating monsters. Unfortunately, in the same paragraph, Grindewald indicated that it was delicate work and insisted that it should be left to the professionals. Grindewald also didn't once write about his own dimension, which also happened to be Harry's dimension. Not including instructions on how to target home in the event that you were stranded on the wrong side of reality was,in Harry's opinion, more than a little bit short sighted.

Still, Thedas might be strange but at least he could breath the air. Harry had yet to run into any giant amoebas or mutated vampires and so far most of the inhabitants seemed fairly sane so he doubted he had any imminent worries on those fronts either. If the world became overrun by darkspawn it might become a less hospitable place but Leliana had told him that they'd been driven off before and there was no reason to think that the darkspawn couldn't be dealt with again. Regardless, until he could figure out a substitute for the wraiths and a way to target his home dimension he wasn't going anywhere.

Flipping to the afterword Harry immediately noticed the change in writing style and he suspected he was now reading the work of Priscilla Prewett. The afterword described how Grindewald had found a dimension where magic was somehow more powerful and thought it so ripe with potential that he had insisted on exploring it himself. She then claimed there was some kind of accident with the portal and that Grindewald had subsequently been stranded on the wrong side and that none of his remaining helpers had the knowledge or power required to reopen the doorway. It sounded to Harry like some enterprising assistant had simply wanted to increase their life expectancy and shut the thing down on purpose and if so Harry very much applauded their initiative.

Harry, on a whim, reached into his main library pocket and tried desperately to imagine a book on dimensional rituals. A heartbeat later a thin, hardcover book materialized in his hand but when he pulled it out and looked at the cover he was unsurprised at the unhelpful title, "How To Get Lost And What To Do When You Get There, second edition." He dropped it on the table and tried again and this time he found himself with a well read copy of the third year standard book of spells. If Harry had known at the time that the robes he'd bought were illiterate he might have found a better way to organize his collection than by dumping the entire thing in a single pocket.

Feeling a bit depressed, Harry shoved the two books back into his robes, but in a different pocket this time. He used one that was either fairly empty or half filled with camping supplies but either way it wasn't the library pocket, which he suspected he'd be working his way through, bit by bit, in the hopes of finding something helpful to his present circumstances. Harry cleaned up the rest of his research, checked to make sure he hadn't left anything lying about, and left his room in search of some sort of sustenance that didn't come in a sealed wrapper.

The kitchens took him a bit of effort to find but a few servants had happily pointed him in the right direction and so he got there eventually. It had at first taken him by surprise how friendly everyone was being but he supposed that the word was out - Arl Eamon was recovering and it had been Harry and Leliana who had arrived with the cure.

They had been having a breakfast of granola bars and water that morning and making plans when Bann Teagan had come to share the news himself. He'd been joyous when he reached them and, after barging into Harry's room, had engulfed a surprised Leliana in a giant hug that had left Harry feeling vaguely irritated. Then the Bann had turned and given an equally exuberant hug to an even more surprised Harry which had just been awkward and uncomfortable with nothing vague about it. The Bann had gleefully informed them that his brother the Arl, as well as Eamon's wife, Isolde, would like to meet with them after mid-day to express their thanks and discuss recent events. He'd also mentioned something about rewarding the duo but Harry hadn't given it much thought. He suspected that the things he needed most were all far outside the Arl's reach.

Discarding thoughts of breakfast Harry glanced around the busy kitchen and tried focusing on his more imminent need for lunch. The kitchen was sizable and clearly intended for preparing entire banquets and he could make out where giant pots could be hung inside any of the half dozen oversized fireplaces. There were an equal number of giant brick ovens lining another wall and servants could be seen moving around from counter to counter chopping vegetables and filleting fish, preparations for a dinner fit for the reawakened Arl. He was glancing around the room to see if there was anyone that he could trouble for a spot of lunch when he felt a presence moving up unexpectedly behind him. Survival instincts kicked in and Harry spun, his wand dropping into his hand and a curse on his lips. He was a breath away from banishing the poor woman down the corridor when he recognized her from the previous evening. Standing before him, looking somewhat bemused, was the servant that Leliana had insisted would try to sneak into his room during the night.

She looked at his wand curiously, clearly unsure what to make of the polished rod before dismissing it and nodding to him politely. "May I help you my lord?"

Harry relaxed his stance and sheepishly hid the wand back up his sleeve. She watched as it disappeared but didn't question him on the oddity and Harry smiled at her gratefully. She smiled in return but hers was somewhat strained and he realized he hadn't yet answered her question. "I was just looking to get something for lunch."

Nodding she looked around the kitchen for a moment before heading towards a storage bin sitting on an unoccupied spot of counter and removed the lid to reveal a selection of cheeses. She pulled out a good sized orange wedge before placing it on a cutting board and grabbing a nearby knife. "Did you sleep well last night, my lord?"

Harry stifled his impulse towards a cursory reply when he noticed the sudden tension in her frame. She'd asked the question so very casually but there was something intently interested in the way she'd had glanced at him when she did so. Bloody Hell, Harry thought with realization. He'd been sure that Leliana was just teasing him the previous night. Rejection was one thing but being ignored stung far worse and if she really had shown up he'd undoubtedly slept right through her knocking on his door. Feeling no desire to hurt her feelings Harry chose his reply carefully. "I slept like the dead. I'd had a rough couple of days."

"Truly, my lord?" she asked and her posture relaxed slightly. She cut several more slices of cheese and placed the lot of them on a wooden plate grabbed hastily from a nearby cupboard.

"First, I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure only nobles get called 'lord'. Call me Harry," He told her as she grabbed a bowl of fresh fruit off a counter and selected a couple of apples and a handful of grapes to add to his plate. She was putting quite a bit more food on it than he expected he'd be able to eat, "And yes, I spent the night before last outside, waiting for something to show up and try to eat me. Not at all conducive to sound sleep."

"By the quality of your apparel and the Bann's good favour I had assumed - forgive me then Harry, my name is Erlina." She buttered several slices of bread and put them on a second plate. Pulling a pair of mugs out of another cupboard and setting everything on a tray she proceed to fill the mugs with some kind of white milk and Harry wondered briefly what animal it had come from. She then led him over to a small table in the corner, set the tray in the middle, and sat her self down in one of the available seats while looking at him expectantly. "May I join you?"

It looked like she already had but Harry didn't mind the company so he simply nodded to her and sat. He then picked up one of the slices of bread and laid several pieces of cheese over top of it before taking a bite. The bread was thick and fresh, the cheese slightly sharp, and the butter creamy. As lunches went it wasn't bad at all.

Erlinea smiled at his agreement and leaned forward over the table. "That does sound a horribly uncomfortable way to sleep Harry. It must have left you very stiff. I know how an uncomfortable night can leave one's muscles sore for days."

"I..." Harry stumbled over his words uncomfortably and floundered for a response. Her words were innocent but her tone was sly and suggestive and they'd caught him by surprise. Harry had the vague suspicion that she was about to offer her help in dealing with any lingering aches, probably in his room, and most likely with very limited clothing. Flustered he responded without thinking. "I was a bit but, you know, warm bath cleared it right up."

"But you did not take a bath. I offered to send for one and you refused." She frowned in thought and took a drink from her mug, pondering a moment before her eyes lit up as she drew some unintended meaning from his words. Whatever conclusion she'd come to led her to sit back and pop a grape into her mouth before giggling. All sense of seduction vanished from her in a moment and when she continued her voice carried only amusement. "I understand how it is now. I do not know why you hid it though - nobody here would have judged you."

Harry took a large bite of an apple to cover his confusion. She was right, she hadn't drawn him a bath, he'd just used his magic to conjure one up. A moment of pondering and he remembered that one bath had been drawn - it just hadn't been in Harry's room. He swallowed abruptly, realizing just what she thought had happened. He opened his mouth to refute the belief only for Erlina to switch topics.

"I'm sure you have been thanked many times but I would like to thank you as well Harry. You and your lady both. You have no idea what returning the Arl means to Redcliffe. He is a great man and the village has been through difficult times. We will all need his wisdom in the coming days."

"I did notice that everyone in the castle seems to think highly of him," Harry replied. Still feeling inclined to correct Erlina's assumption he then tried to continue. "But Lel..."

"You had not already heard of him? He is well known throughout most of Ferelden as a good and fair man. I suppose your accent is a bit strange. Perhaps you are not from Ferelden but instead fare from the Free Marches?" Erlina asked the question innocently and unknowingly steered the conversation into dangerous waters. Suddenly protecting Leliana's reputation seemed far less important. It probably didn't matter anyway. Given the way she'd giggled at Erlina's behaviour the previous night, if she found out Leliana would undoubtedly find the entire misunderstanding endlessly amusing.

"Something like that," Harry replied vaguely. He'd have to find a better answer to those kinds of questions for the future. Trying to explain to everyone he met that he was a traveller from a far off dimension was just asking for trouble and incredulity in equal measures. Unfortunately all he knew about the Free Marches was where to find them on Leliana's map.

"What an odd reply. If not here in Ferelden and not in the Free Marches then perhaps you were raised by the dwarves then for they speak the common tongue with much the same accent as we." She chuckled, obviously amused with the idea, "Is this your first time on the surface Harry? Have you spent your life looking up at a stone sky?"

While she was enjoying herself with the theory she was still looking at him speculatively and he suspected she was going to keep trying to ferret the truth from him. That was just bound to get awkward fast. Searching for a distraction he blurted out the first question that came to his mind.

"If I asked you about a black city, would that mean anything to you?" Harry asked before taking a drink of his milk. The city had seemed so real in his dream and it had continued to plague his thoughts throughout the day. He'd nearly asked Leliana about it over breakfast but had changed his mind when it occurred to him that she'd undoubtedly find a way to pry the details of the rest of the dream out of him.

"The black city?" The question came not from Erlina but from a cook who had been walking by. She was an older lady with greying hair and wore a brown apron covered in white powder, probably flour. It was also clear that she enjoyed sampling her own cooking. Her dishwater blond hair was mostly contained by a hat and her face was round and would probably appear warm and friendly when she wasn't frowning in consternation. "Maker, why would you ask a question like that?"

Harry looked between Erlina and the cook and realized that his simple question had garnered him an excessive amount of attention.

"I had a dream." Harry admitted and an instant later both Erlina and the cook were staring at him with wide eyes. Wondering what he'd said wrong Harry decided that the only way to go was forward. "I know it sounds ridiculous but I just can't get it out of my head. There was a black city floating on a rocky island. The sky was this smokey green colour and..."

"Why would you tell us this? Is this your idea of a joke? If so it is a horrible one," Erlina whispered.

"Maker watch over us. Look at his face Erlina. He's not making fun." Hearing the cook Harry began to suspect that he had just stepped in something that was probably going to stick to his boot for some time to come. "An ignorant child, that's what he is. He knows nothing of anything."

"Is this true Harry?" Erlina examined his expression before biting her lip. "How could you possibly have grown up not knowing the story of the black city?"

The cook appeared ready to crucify him and Erlina just looked stupefied. "If I knew what it was I wouldn't have asked. I'm sorry if I've upset you."

The cook looked around and seeing that no one was paying attention sat in one of the empty chairs. She leaned close over the table and spoke in a low voice. "The black city was first the golden city, the city of the Maker. The golden city was where He brought our souls to rest"

The cook watched him carefully for sign of recognition and when she saw none she continued. Erlina, her face now pale, simply listened. "Then the vile Imperium defiled it. They sought to make it theirs, to touch it with their unclean hands. For their crime we were all cursed and the defilers came back as the first of the darkspawn. The city has been blackened ever since."

"At least," Erlina murmered, "That's what the Chantry claims. They claim many things."

The cook scowled at her.

"It is the Maker's own truth," the cook insisted. Erlina let the comment go and focused on Harry.

"But if you have had such a dream then you are a mage Harry." Despite the milk Harry had just swallowed his mouth suddenly felt bone dry.

"I'm not a mage," Harry stated with a frown.

"If you have seen the city with your own eyes then you have walked the depths of the fade. This is where the black city is found," Erlina replied.

Fade. The cook's scowl deepened and it took Harry a minute to place the word. Leliana had mentioned it when he'd first suggested the idea that he was from a different dimension. He had to concentrate for a moment to remember her words.

"Two worlds, separated only by a thin veil," Harry whispered, "Bloody hell. It wasn't a dream was it?"

"No, Harry, it was not," Erlina replied. Where the cook had clearly developed an instant dislike for him Erlina seemed only concerned. "We all enter the fade unaware in our dreams, or so it is said, but only mages find themselves deep enough within its borders to be put in danger. If you had the dream you describe then you are a mage. There can be no doubt. But this, like the rest, you should already know."

"Beware, Mage. Beware. When you walk the fade the demons will walk it with you," the cook warned before standing back up, "If it weren't for your service to the Arl I'd already be searching for the nearest templar."

"Tilda! He has done nothing to deserve..." Erlina began only for the cook to shush at her with a frown. She considered Harry for a moment.

"If you are here in a week I will tell everyone what you are. Everyone will know that you are an apostate. We've had enough of demons at Redcliffe, we don't need more so begone with you."

With that Tilda left and Harry turned to Erlina. She sat quietly for a moment before looking down and beginning to gather the remains of their lunch. He barely remembered them eating it but at some point they'd polished off everything except for a couple of grapes.

"I don't know how your ignorance comes about or how far it extends but I can tell you this much, demons in the fade will try to tempt you into giving yourself over to them. If you don't wish to abide within the confines of the circle then seek out an apostate, they may be able to teach you how to protect your sleep." She said and then looked up, searching his eyes for some hidden fortitude. "Be strong, Harry the mage."

"Wizard," Harry stated, "I'm not a mage."

"I have never heard of a wizard." An uncomfortable silence hovered over them for a moment before Erlina broke it. "Are the two different?"

"I'd thought so," Harry replied. He now knew the truth, that Mages were at best tolerated, but clearly nearly always feared. He wondered what the templars were and what they would do if they got their hands on him.

Erlina nodded, though she clearly didn't understand. She stood up, the tray held in her hands, and asked, "When will you leave?"

"Tomorrow, I expect." Harry replied. Where Tilda had been hostile Erlina simply looked sad. She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the cheek.

"Fair well then wizard. May the Maker watch over you." She nodded to him before moving towards the counter with their tray. She stopped and looked back. "You should tell your lady of this if you have not already. She does not strike me as someone who would forsake you but she deserves to know of the danger."

Smiling sadly one last time she turned back to the counter and while her back was turned Harry fled the room with only one question burning in his mind.

If the creature pretending to be Cindy had been a demon, then just what in Merlin's name had been in the firewhiskey?

* * *

"Templars?" Harry asked and Leliana jumped away from the door she'd been closing and spun around with a dagger in her hand. Harry wondered briefly where it had come from, knowing she hadn't been holding it when she opened the door.

"Harry?" Leliana asked and the notice-me-not charm around the bench he was sitting on collapsed. After his enlightening conversation with Tilda and Erlina he had decided he ought to start practising his concealment spells – it was beginning to look like he was going to need them. Harry had spent some of his time while waiting for Leliana to get back pondering how hard it would be to establish his very own statute of secrecy. It might be a bit lonely on his own, but then again he could probably sell the idea to some of the local mages.

Of course he could always just go exploring. If the reach of the templars didn't extend beyond Thedas there might be an entire planet out there that they had never heard of them.

Relaxing, Leliana made the dagger disappear again before closing her door and letting her new backpack slip from her shoulder. She'd headed to the village that morning intending to replace her lost supplies while Harry had stayed behind to continue with his fruitless research.

"I think you left something out of your story last night," Harry mused from his seat, leaning against the wall, and she nodded hesitantly.

"It is a topic I have been unsure how to broach." She walked across the room and sat down beside him. "I knew it could not wait endlessly but last night - I did not wish to darken our evening."

"This is the real reason you thought I should keep my magic quiet isn't it?" Harry commented glumly.

"Most in Thedas believe that it is unsafe for mages to have too much freedom," she answered and Harry couldn't help but notice that Leliana had avoided giving her own opinion on the subject.

"They're scared of them."

"Yes, but not for what they can do." Leliana turned to sit sideways on the bench, facing him. "The true source of their fear is..."

"Let me guess," Harry interrupted wryly, "Some poor mage falls asleep and instead of dreaming properly finds himself in the fade. An enterprising demon notices, tries to play some head games, applies a little temptation, and if the demon has its way then when the mage wakes up... Well, I suppose he doesn't wake up at all, the demon does."

"I, well yes," Leliana fumbled, "but how did you..."

"Oh Leliana - I had the strangest dream last night," Harry drawled.

"The fade ... " she breathed, her eyes widening

"The fade. I'm pretty sure some demon tried to entice me into giving her a ride in more ways than one. But the way she did it, I had no idea what was going on." Harry frowned. "It would have been really useful to know that could happen beforehand."

"I am so sorry. I thought that if you were not truly a mage that you would be safe from... wait...she...ride?" Leliana eyed him speculatively. "How exactly did 'she' seek to entice you?"

"Right." Harry cleared his throat. "Now that I know what I'm up against I can deal with the demons. The part that worries me is these templars. What do they do to mages Leliana?"

Leliana grinned at his obvious avoidance. "I will have the truth of this from you."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Templars, Leliana?"

She sobered, and hesitated a moment and Harry knew he wasn't going to like the answer. "If captured apostates are cooperative they are forced to join the circle of magi. I suspect that those who resist are shown no such mercy."

"You did say they were the ones with the big magical library," Harry commented.

"Yes, but once you have joined they will never let you leave again unless on circle business and escorted by templars, they would certainly never help you return home," Leliana said and it was about what Harry had expected. It sounded like the circle was some sort of prison with the templars playing the part of wardens.

"But how to do the templars capture the mages?" Harry mused, "I can't imagine many of them come quietly."

"I do now know for sure, this is not something that is talked about but it is clear they have their methods." She took a deep breath. "Harry there is something else you should know."

Harry waited.

"Please forgive me for I have been selfish," Leliana admitted solemnly, "Val Royeaux is the heart of the Chantry. This also makes it the heart of the templars. There is no place in Thedas more dangerous for an apostate and it would not be wise for you to accompany me there. I should have realized this sooner I just..."

Harry finished when she couldn't continue. "Didn't want to go alone?"

They sat in silence and Harry thought over their planned excursion, now equating it to walking right up to the headquarters of a group of magic-hating militants and practically knocking on their front door. It sounded like a clear violation of the Hogwarts motto to him. Watching Leliana's face he could tell that she was once again resigning herself to making the journey on her own but it wouldn't, he thought, be a safe journey for her either. He tried to imagine her in Orlais alone, with no one to watch her back, captured, tortured, and then buried in an unmarked grave for the crimes of her teacher and he felt his blood run cold. Not bloody likely.

"So when do we tickle the sleeping dragon?" he asked casually and Leliana's face instantly lit up, having caught his meaning. He grinned in return, some sayings didn't need an explanation.

"If someone here has threatened to set the templars on you then we should leave with all due haste. The Arl would protect you as much as he is able, we have earned that from him at the least, but it would be best if we were elsewhere should they come for you."

"Today then."

Leliana nodded. "But first, we still must meet with the Arl."

* * *

Harry had expected to be led to the main hall, so he was surprised when they were instead shown to the Arl's personal study on one of the upper floors. Like the rest of the rooms Harry had seen it favoured small glassless windows with wooden shutters but it made up for it with the wide open double doors which led out onto a terrace facing the lake. There were several occupied book shelves and a comfortable looking couch but what dominated the room was the large desk constructed of dark wood which, from the delicate scroll work carved into the legs and frame, had obviously been made by a master at their craft. Both the Arl and his wife sat behind the desk and upon entering Harry and Leliana had been offered the two chairs sitting opposite them. Teagan had remained standing, propped against the wall.

The meeting started off on a friendly note.

"I have been told that I have you both to thank for my recovery. Unfortunately my brother has told me little else about you except that one of you travelled with Marcus Cousland who has apparently become a grey warden. I am Arl Eamon Guerrin and this is my wife Isolde." The Arl and Arlessa turned to look at Harry expectantly and he found himself thinking that they were an oddly matched couple With silver hair and beard Eamon at first appeared older than he most likely was, with his strong bearing and only mildly age-lined skin Harry was fairly sure the man couldn't be any older the fifty. Isolde, he suspected, would normally look to be ten years his junior, but recent events had taken their toll. Her face was gaunt, her light brown hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and she also hadn't smiled once since they'd entered the study. She nodded to them when her name was given but didn't speak.

Harry waited, expecting Leliana to take over their end of the conversation, but she too turned to look at him, her expression slightly amused and one eyebrow raised as if to say 'what are you waiting for?'

He cleared his throat and replied awkwardly. "Harry Potter - and this is Leliana..."

Leliana had never actually told him her last name he realized. It made finishing the introduction somewhat awkward. Before he could say anything more he noticed that everyone else in the room was now looking at him with varying expressions of confusion.

"A Potter? Truly?" Arl Eamon Guerrin questioned, frowning at Bann Teagan, "My brother indicated that he believed you to be a scholar,"

The Bann shrugged in reply, wearing his own look of general befuddlement.

"But it is perhaps somewhat appropriate that a potter would bring to us the urn." Arlessa Isolde pointed out to her husband and Harry realized the cause of the confusion. "A humble vessel carried by a humble petitioner,"

"I'm sorry," Harry interrupted, "Potter is just my family name, not my profession."

It quickly became clear that no one knew what to make of that statement either. Maybe, he thought, the reason Leliana had never used her last name was because she didn't have one.

"How strange." Isolde commented when the silence had drawn on too long and she then turned to Leliana. "And you Leliana? What brings you so far from home?"

Isolde had clearly come from Orlais as well, her words carried an accent similar to Leliana's but had been diluted by many years spent living in Ferelden.

"Like you, Arlessa, I have chosen to make Fereldan my home. I may have spent my childhood in Orlais but it was from Fereldan that my mother came and it seemed only fitting to return here."

"And what of you, Potter who is not a potter?" The Arl asked. Harry mused that getting thanked by the Arl was beginning to feel an awful lot like an interrogation. "There is no noble family with such a name in all of Fereldan, do you come to us from the Free Marches?"

"I'm not a noble," Harry briefly wondered why everyone was so interested in where he came from. "I'm just a man who took his father's name."

"And one who clearly does not like to answer questions." Bann Teagan mumbled with a grin but everyone heard him clearly.

"Enough." The Arlessa interrupted sharply before looking first Harry and then Leliana in the eyes. "Please, tell us how you came to be here with the urn when it was the warden who promised it to us."

So Leliana told them an abridged tale of her journey. She told them of her travels with the warden from Redcliffe to Denerim to Haven and then on to the tomb of Andraste, and then she told of the warden's betrayal and his intention to desecrate the ashes. This, unfortunately, was where her tale fell apart. Despite her attempts to gloss over Harry's arrival and how it was that they had escaped with the urn and made there way to Redcliffe it was clear that the listeners were dissatisfied.

"A scholar appeared in a hidden tomb, rescued you unarmed, and then you both somehow escaped a deadly swordsman, a qunari warrior, and a witch?" Leliana flinched at the Arl's admonishment and Isolde placed her hand on his arm.

"Does it matter husband how they came to be here? They brought you back to me, surely that is all that is important."

The Arl shook his head and stared at Leliana. She stared right back, unflinching. His voice when he spoke again had become cold and threatening. "There are other factors of import. Perhaps they retrieved the ashes by murdering the warden and his companions and made their way here to claim a reward. What of Alistair, Leliana? Is he dead?"

"She hasn't lied to you." Harry spoke calmly and Eamon redirected his ire.

"And how then did a scholar find himself in the depths of a tomb lost for centuries at the moment of her execution?" Eamon demanded, truly angry now he slammed one fist onto his desk.

Why the Arl was so invested in this Harry couldn't imagine. The warden had callously killed the man's son so even if Harry and Leliana had truly conspired to murder the warden there was no reason for the Arl to do anything but applaud. Regardless, there was clearly only one way out of this scenario which didn't involve submitting to the man's dungeons or slaughtering half of his guards.

"Magic," Harry stated, relaxing into his chair, "And I never said I was a scholar."

Leliana turned to him in shock and he looked back and shrugged. "What?"

"Harry..." She began but he interrupted her.

"He was half way ready to lock you in the dungeon and you told me earlier that he owed us too much to call the templars on us," Harry responded before turning back to the nobles, "I'm not a scholar, I'm a wizard."

"A mage?" the Arlessa asked, her voice tense.

"Not exactly," Harry responded. If people lumped him in with the mages they were probably more likely to summon the nearest templar. Better for him to be an unknown variable than a known threat. "My magic seems to work differently. Where I'm from there are no mages, just wizards."

When no one interrupted him Harry continued. "I arrived by magical accident in the tomb about two feet from the edge of a bottomless pit and I had no idea where I was. When I found Leliana..."

Harry shook his head as he recalled the events.

"Even after she was disarmed she wouldn't hand over the ashes." Harry looked the Arl in the eye, hoping the man could see the truth in his gaze. "She was praying when the warden tried to kill her. I didn't know what I had walked into the middle of but I couldn't stand by and do nothing."

Leliana giggled breaking the somber mood. "What was it you asked after you had relieved him of his sword? Whom you should eviscerate first?"

"Too much?" Harry asked

"No, it was perfect. Not one of us knew what to make of you and you stood there, unarmed, arrogantly implying that you could kill every last one of us if we didn't give you reason not to," she smiled at the memory, "Of course not one of us believed you could do so."

"I was only trying to threaten them - it was clear you were the innocent victim. Even so I may have bitten off a bit more than I could chew," he admitted sheepishly.

"And yet you felled all but the witch and her I dealt with myself. Two great warriors, and a Mabari hound bested by one man, it is something to be proud of." The warmth in her eyes brought a flush to his cheeks.

"Tell us more," the Arl demanded, still appearing sceptical but no longer on the edge of calling the guards.

In answer Leliana launched back into a more detailed retelling of events after Harry's arrival. She told of the fight as she witnessed it from the top of the steps. She talked about Harry's disfigurement of Sten's sword as if it had been an intentionally clever tactic and she described how he had sacrificed himself to the witch's spell to bludgeon the warden before he could take Leliana's life. The way she told it seemed far more heroic than Harry recalled but her listeners quickly became fascinated so he didn't try to correct her.

Then she told them of his fight with the dragon.

"It is the truth. Unaided he beat the high dragon into unconsciousness with magic the likes of which I had never even imagined. I have no doubt that had he not been exhausted he could have finished the beast himself but instead he spirited us away while the monster tried to free itself from the ground, its wings useless and its sight stolen from it."

"When you say spirited..." Teagan ventured. Leliana paused and Harry wondered if she'd tell them of the apparition and the dark night that followed.

After an internal debate she chose another response. "He has a broom. And it flies."

Silence followed her pronouncement.

"Of course he does." Isolde finally said, laughing and smiling for the first time since Harry had seen her.

The nobles had been surprisingly accepting of Leliana's revised tale but Harry still found himself proving some of her claims to them. He'd conjured a kitten right on the Arl's desk to illustrate how he'd created the lions and everyone had been suitably impressed, but it was when Harry pulled the firebolt from his pocket and sat it hovering in mid air that any lingering doubt had vanished. The Arl for some reason continued to be very interested in the warden that Harry had yet to meet, Alistair, but Leliana had insisted that he was unharmed last she saw him and that the two wardens would undoubtedly still be travelling together.

"I am in your debt." The Arl later told them. "Both of you will always be welcome guests within these halls. But tell me, is there anything more that I can do for you?"

Harry and Leliana shared a glance before Leliana replied, "Only to allow us to travel on to Val Royeaux with the urn. I feel it is my duty to see it to safety and Harry has graciously agreed to aid me in this."

"I do not intend to interfere with your task," the Arl acknowledged leaning forward, "But surely there is some other way I can repay you. I owe you my life."

"Arl Eamon," Harry replied after careful thought, "I am stranded in a world that is not my own. I have no home, and few friends."

Harry glanced at Leliana who was watching him intently.

"If there is anything I truly need it will most likely be a place to come back to," he continued looking into the Arl's eyes.

The Arl looked surprised for a second but then his expression resolved and he stood slowly. Harry briefly wondered if he'd violated some local custom. Eamon walked around the desk and Harry and Leliana had to rise as well to meet him. When Harry found himself facing the Arl without the obstruction of the desk he couldn't help but note the somewhat satisfied look on his face. Eamon reached forward and placed one hand on Harry's shoulder. "I have already told you that you are welcome here but if what you need most is safe harbour then, I give my word, you will have it at Redcliffe castle."

Eamon released Harry's shoulder and from the pleased grin on Leliana's face Harry figured he'd just done something right. The Arl turned again to Leliana. "And what of you Leliana? You have not yet requested anything which is not already yours."

"I suspect," Leliana glanced at Harry, "that if Harry seeks shelter here that I will be seeking it with him. For the moment our paths are joined together."

"Ah," the Arl looked between them slyly, "then the talk amongst the servants isn't entirely idle. I understand."

Leliana's eyes widened briefly in confusion but she quickly gained control of her expression.

"Now. I understand that preparations have been underway since mid-day for a veritable feast," the Arl continued, "I am told I haven't had a proper meal in well over a month so I am very much looking forward to it. We can speak more of your plans over dinner."

"It sounds wonderful," Leliana replied and like that the decision was made. They would be delaying their departure until the following day.

As they were leaving the study Leliana leaned towards him and asked quietly, "Harry, why would the servants believe..."

Harry shook his head. "Not a clue."

* * *

"So anyone wearing a mask is a noble?" Harry questioned. They had kept up a steady stream of conversation for most of the trip as Leliana tried to prepare him for the intricacies of Orlesian society. She had described the constant game of one-upmanship among the nobles, an often deadly tug-of-war where they fought with Machiavellian plots over power and influence simply for the sake of having it. She had also described to him the 'chevaliers' – an order of Orlesian knights that claimed to prize their honour over all else. It had sounded to Harry a somewhat dubious sort of honour that allowed them free rein to abuse the peasantry however they wished, a supposed privilege of their status.

"Not always," she answered and despite the wind blowing past them he was sure he could feel her breath brushing across his ear. It was surprising how intimate a conversation held several hundred feet in the air on a flying broom could be. "The servants of nobles often wear masks as well – a lesser version of that worn by their master or mistress so those who see them may know whom they serve. I should warn you, many of them are in extremely poor taste."

"Ah, so I take it I should try not to laugh at the poor sods wearing the worst examples,"

"While it is true that some are difficult to not ridicule, this is not the sort of mask I was remembering. Once, there was a noble who decided to style his mask after a Hurlock believing he would then intimidate all those who saw him with his fierce and terrifying guise. But alas, his craftsman did his work too well, and when two of his loyal servants made the mistake of wearing their own matching masks after nightfall they found themselves slain by drunken chevaliers who mistook them for darkspawn. It was all that anyone talked about for a month."

"So did you ever have to..." Harry began.

"On several occasions. Imitating the mask of a noble can make for a convenient disguise," Leliana answered, "One must however be very careful not to get caught when doing so. The response to such an affront can often be unpleasant."

"Ah. Pisses them right off. Got it." Harry nodded. "Either way it shouldn't come up. I have my own means of sneaking around that seem to work for me."

When Harry didn't elaborate Leliana slipped one hand under his robes and then poked him in his side. Harry did his best not to flinch in response and send them twenty degrees off course. "You cannot finish there. What secret wizard ways do you have of disguising yourself? Or perhaps you simply turn yourself invisible and walk past those who would seek to obstruct you."

"Closer to the second one actually. The first takes a potion and I couldn't bring any with me. Too volatile for storage in my pockets," Harry admitted. There was a beat of silence behind him.

"You understand that you will be demonstrating this talent to me in Orlais. Or... is this how you surprised me in my room yesterday? I was so sure it was empty when I opened the door but then you were just there as if you had always been."

"No, that was something different. I charmed the bench with a..." Harry began but Leliana suddenly leaned around him and pointed at something ahead on the road they were following.

Their journey had taken them north around the top of the frostback mountains and from there they had turned to follow a road leading west and slightly south parallel to what Leliana had called the Waking Sea. The area they were travelling through, while now part of Orlais, had once been called the dales and was made up mostly of grasslands and wooded areas. Harry had been surprised when Leliana told him that the dales had all once belonged to the elves before Orlesian troops had conquered them and annexed their lands, something Harry had found disappointing for more than one reason. He suspected that he'd have enjoyed experiencing a true house elf city and his musings on the idea had led him to imagine a sturdily built village of identical pristine houses, each exactly half the size it ought to be.

They'd seen little sign of habitation on the main road except for the occasional group of travellers and what Leliana was pointing out to him at first appeared to be another such group. Slowing the broom as they approached he could make out a horse drawn wagon pulled off the road and dragged to the top of a shallow hill. There was a small gathering of people huddled near it and a troop of perhaps two dozen armoured soldiers surrounding the hilltop. Bodies littered the ground around the soldiers and shapes continually emerged from the nearby woods to rush up the hill only to be cut down as well with little effort from the defenders.

"Darkspawn!" Leliana hissed in his ear and he realized she was right.

"I thought we left that trouble behind in Ferelden," Harry grumbled.

"They are gathering in great numbers in Ferelden but the darkspawn may appear anywhere, there is nowhere they cannot reach from the deeper roads." She replied.

"It doesn't look like they need our help," Harry said only for Leliana to point again but now further into the woods.

"There, amongst the trees, there are more of them" she stated.

He saw it then, the flickering of far off forms glimpsed between leaves and branches, the occasional group of trees shaken from the thunder of feet pounding on the ground below. "Any idea how many?"

"I do not know but... I would guess there to be at least a hundred. Harry, I have seen what you are capable of and your presence may turn the tide of battle. We cannot leave them to be slaughtered," she pleaded.

"Me? What about that bow of yours?" he smirked, "You may want to hold on tighter."

"Why would I wish to..." Leliana began only for her to squeal when he accelerated rapidly towards the group. Leliana's arms held on to him like a vise but after she got over her surprise she began laughing for the sheer joy of it and Harry made a note to show her what the firebolt could really do after they were done with this little distraction. He approached the ground almost vertically and at a breakneck pace, pulling up at the last possible second. His landing was time so that he set down in an unobserved spot near the back of the wagon while everyone was staring either outwards or towards the woods where the latest batch of darkspawn was approaching from. Both Harry and Leliana were on the ground with the broom hidden in Harry's pocket before anyone could notice their presence.

The main defenders were a group of twenty armoured men and women, each of them wearing matching plate mail with oversized shoulder plates and wielding a sword and shield. Three men in chain-mail had joined the defensive circle, also armed with swords and shields but their equipment was clearly of lesser quality. Huddled near the wagon were a middle aged couple, well dressed and in decent shape but clearly not prepared to defend themselves and there was also a pair of shackled figures kneeling on the ground, slumped against one large wagon wheel. The first of the prisoners was a plainly clothed man who looked blankly towards the darkspawn, seemingly unconcerned about their arrival, but it was the second of the prisoners that captured Harry's attention.

Even hidden beneath the light blue robes it was clear the prisoner was thin, almost unhealthily so, and her features were so delicate that they sat on the border somewhere between alluring and alien. Her long hair was so pale it was nearly white and standing up she probably wouldn't top five feet in height and while Harry couldn't tell her age he doubted she was any older than twenty. When she noticed their presence she looked up, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, and it was then that Harry finally saw her ears, oddly tall and pointy, and he briefly wondered if she was the victim of a badly brewed potion.

The sound of steel ringing against steel filled the air. Harry turned to watch as the darkspawn were again cut down by the soldiers and found himself impressed at their discipline and skill. When more darkspawn failed to emerge from the woods some of the soldiers began to relax their formation and a pair of them left the circle completely to turn and approach the group in the middle. Now able to see the front of their armour Harry took careful note of the symbol embossed in the centre of their breast plates, a burning sword standing upright, and wondered what it meant.

"Merde," Leliana whispered, "Templars."

One of the two templars approaching was a tall woman and when she removed her helm it revealed hair the colour of burnished copper and cut so that it was barely more than an inch long. Her face, Harry decided, had a severity about it that suggested she was not a person fond of whimsy or disobedience. The man beside her seemed plain, though powerfully built, and the pair made a daunting impression. Several of the soldiers guarding the perimeter turned to watch, all of them looking surprised at the unexpected company.

The woman shouted something at Harry and Leliana in rapid french as she approached but her words were beyond Harry's ability to decipher. All he knew was that she sounded suspicious and angry which was not a good combination in any language. Leliana answered the her in french as well and then the templar growled back something in reply before turning to Harry, apparently waiting for him to respond.

"Harry," Leliana said quietly, "She wishes to know who we are and how we got here. I have told her we saw they were under attack and came to help but she does not believe me."

"Did you mention that we're about to have more than a hundred more darkspawn come down on our heads?" Harry responded.

"No. She did not mention additional darkspawn," The templar replied in a deep accented growl. Her English was perfect but spoken with a heavy french accent.. "Explain."

"We observed them as we approached, deeper in the woods and coming this way. I suspect they will be here shortly and they will not be so easily fought as those you have already slain. We could have continued but thought to come to your aid." Leliana stated and the woman snorted.

"If there are as many as you say then we are already dead. " She looked them up and down, eyeing Leliana's bow speculatively but dismissing Harry quickly. "Nevertheless archer, we can at least take many of them with us when we die. You will find the best vantage on top of the wagon."

The templar looked Harry over one last time and shook her head in disgust. "Can you handle a sword scholar?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry. Not with anything resembling skill."

"Then you should not have allowed your escort to convince you to stop. Make your peace with the Maker and I suggest you do not let the darkspawn take you alive," she turned and moved back to check on her troops, the second templar following at her side.

"You should let them go," he called out and the woman he'd decided must be the leader turned back to him with a frown. "If you're a templar then your captives are mages. Their help against the darkspawn could make all the difference."

"The man is untrained and useless," she growled in response, "the elven apostate killed two templars when we were apprehending her. I will see her hanged for that crime and she knows it – I would no sooner trust her at my back than I would a blood mage."

She then turned and continued to walk towards her soldiers.

"Did she say... elf?" Harry asked, turning to look back at the chained woman. The mage returned his gaze with challenge and he began to suspect that was how she responded to everything.

"Yes," Leliana ventured in reply.

"She's not an elf."

"Of course she is,"

"Huh. Where I'm from elves are tiny with big floppy ears and they love to clean things. Their preferred form of clothing is a tailored tea towel." Harry mused.

"I would not let an elf hear you say so," Leliana commented and Harry nodded in agreement. "If we defeat the darkspawn the templars will not let you leave, not once they know you for what you are."

Harry waved his hand negligently, "I've got a plan. Go ahead and set up on the wagon before she gets crusty."

"Very well. But if I must sneak into the Circle of Mages to rescue you I will not be well pleased," Leliana warned.

The wagon was fully enclosed with a flat, solid, wooden roof that was most likely meant for additional storage and she was easily able to climb atop it. The pair of horses that pulled it had been hobbled to keep them from running off but to be safe Harry cast a pair of petrification curses at them, timing it so the brief flash of light was unnoticeable to the soldiers now waiting while anxiously staring out into the woods. He hadn't gone completely unobserved though, the elven mage having seen his spells and there was a look of dawning realization on her face. Harry winked at in acknowledgement and then turned his focus towards trying to figure out how to prepare for an attack by a small army of homicidal monsters in the little time he had remaining. The first order of business, he decided, was to come up with a plan. Leliana might get upset with him if she found out he'd been lying through his teeth.

Most of the dead darkspawn were on the side of the hill closest to the woods and while some of the soldiers were spread out covering the flanks most of them were arrayed in a line along the main avenue of approach. Some suitable obstacle might slow the darkspawn down and make them easier to kill and it fortunately looked like they didn't have the restraint to circle the hill and attack from all directions. Looking around at what he had to work with the promised plan began to come together in his head, though whether he had time to implement it or not he wasn't so sure. Best to get started then, he decided.

"Excuse me," Harry said approaching the templar leader and she turned and looked askance at him. He found himself admitting that while not beautiful in the typical sense of the word her features were certainly striking when she wasn't scowling or frowning - her nose was a little too long for her face and made her look slightly hawkish but it did give her character. She was almost half a foot taller than him and if she walked around wearing suits of armour all the time he could only speculate that she was probably made of pure muscle.

"What do you want scholar," she asked impatiently. The man she had been conferring with muttered something in french and she smirked.

"First, not a scholar, which is good. If I were a scholar I probably wouldn't be about to save your life." Harry wondered briefly if he should start disillusioning his glasses just to get a little respect around Thedas. Then again, he wasn't sure if disillusioned glasses would still work right. Something to experiment with at another time.

The templar blinked several times and he wondered for a moment if her English wasn't as good as he'd thought it was. When she finally appeared to have made sense of his words she laughed, short and abrupt, before finally responding.

"And how is it that you plan to do this?" she asked incredulously. Harry supposed her scepticism was justifiable and chose not to take offence.

"I'm a wizard. Which means I do magic," her eyes widened and her arm began to reach for her sword, "magic which I can use to save all our lives if you don't go off your trolley."

She hesitated and he carried on, figuring he might be making headway.

"So if you wouldn't mind, I was hoping you could just tell your friends to let me go about my work without stabbing me in the back. Or the front for that matter," Harry ventured. She let her hand drop and paused in consideration, before finally issuing a long statement in french to her soldiers. Some turned to look at him uncomfortably, a few nodded their heads, but the only members of the defenders who actually looked happy at whatever she'd said were the men dressed in chain mail. Harry suspected they'd been travelling with the wagon and not with the templars, probably mercenary guards of some kind.

When no one moved to do anything and the templar leader just stood staring at him Harry decided to take her inaction as an agreement. He nodded to her, walked past the perimeter, and then continued down the hill about thirty feet in the direction of the woods. Then, wand out, he began laying down the first of his magical defences. The templars watched as he walked a semi circle around the hill waving his wand in the air and chanting under his breath and he heard a few of them begin to laugh at his antics. Better they think him a fraud than a threat he supposed but he knew they'd re-evaluate that opinion when he put down the next layer.

Finished with the first set of traps he lifted his wand and drew a rune in the air that burned with purple fire. Then with a final sharp prod of his wand the rune shot down and etched itself into the ground. Behind him all sounds of jocularity had vanished and Harry mentally patted himself on the back for his accomplishment - he'd made believers of the small army of magic-hating bigots gathered behind him with sharp pointy swords. Bloody brilliant. Harry continued with his work and drew three more of the runes and sent each of them into the earth so that they roughly defined a rectangle after which he incanted a final charm aimed at the centre of that space and watched as it slowly filled with a faintly visible golden mist. The runes holding the fog in place faded from view and nodding in satisfaction Harry moved on to do it again and then again after that. He continued like that until the entire area along one side of the hill was filled with that faintly glowing mist almost all the way back to where the now nervous templars stood watching.

When Harry was finished the templars' leader peered suspiciously at the golden fog. "What will this accomplish mage?"

"Wizard," Harry corrected, "Step into it and find out."

She turned on him, "Do you truly think I can be trapped so easily."

With a sigh Harry shook his head and then stepped into the mist himself. Standing in the fog he raised a challenging eyebrow at her and he didn't have to wait long before she felt compelled to finally walk into the mist beside him. When she crossed the boundary she stumbled, her world turning on her and Harry knew exactly how she felt. She was hanging from the ground with her feet, the sky below threatening to pull her from the earth towards an endless fall to her death, and Harry watched as she collapsed, her hands digging desperately into the dirt. Grabbing her arm, Harry stepped out of the mist while dragging her with him and it was no easy task as the armour really did weigh a ton. When they emerged he couldn't help but notice that several templars had inched closer and that they all had their naked swords in their hands and angry looks in their eyes. He suspected that they might have attacked him then if their leader hadn't motioned for them to return to their positions.

"What sorcery was that?" she asked calmly and Harry was impressed by how quickly she had regained both her feet and her composure.

"Confuses your inner ear," he offered and when it was clear that explanation hadn't been sufficient he continued. "It makes your mind think that up is down and down is up but its all in your head. If you're ready for it you can ignore it. I figure any darkspawn that comes through that mist should be worthless in a fight. Keep your templars right at the edge of it so they can attack the darkspawn while they're still in the fog."

She nodded hesitantly and he turned to his next task, assuming she'd follow through with his suggestion. Looking around at the dozens of darkspawn corpses he had to work with he started levitating their weapons away from their bodies and into a pile in front of him. In the distance the cries of the darkspawn could be heard getting closer and he did his best to hurry. There wasn't much time left.

After he was finished he climbed up onto the wagon with Leliana. When he stood beside her she reached out and briefly squeezed his hand. "I had thought for a moment that she would attack you and be done with it."

"You'd have shot her before she could pull her sword," he replied. When she didn't respond he turned to her, "You would have shot her, right?"

"Perhaps," she answered playfully before sobering, "I suspect there is a weak spot in the armpit. The first arrow would have gone there while she was drawing her sword. I would, however, not have enjoyed doing so – she is a servant of the Maker in her own way."

Looking down at the still chained mages he found it hard to care what reasons the templars thought they had. The elf gazed back at him beseechingly and he nodded to her ever so slightly. Her eyes closed briefly in relief and then she nodded back. The first of the darkspawn broke the forest boundary then and he looked up briefly to watch them turn towards the hill. Unconcerned with the attack Harry then knelt and began inscribing tiny runes near the end of each of the wooden planks that made up the roof. He started working his way down one side, a set of five runes for each board, each one meticulously cast.

"Harry what are you doing?" Leliana hissed, her bow raised and an arrow knocked, "they are upon us."

"I'm putting together our exit strategy," he responded, continuing his work.

Spotting their prey the darkspawns' bestial cries filled the air and they poured forth from between the trees. Harry continued to inscribe while keeping one eye on his work and one eye on his enemies.

The first of the darkspawn shouted and growled right up until a troop of at least ten genlocks ran onto an area of grass and vanished. They, as well as the thin layer of turf they'd stepped on, had disappeared into the thin muddy quicksand below. The darkspawn following them couldn't stop their mad rush in time and fell in as well, silent and unseen as they suffocated beneath the muck.

The mad rush of the darkspawn cut to either side of the trap only for yet more pits to be discovered and at least a dozen more of the creatures died. The attackers did not stop but did continue forward more cautiously, their thirst for blood outweighing any sense of self preservation. A group of genlocks with bows stopped to fire at the defenders but the templars were well protected by their armour and shields and none of the arrows reached beyond them.

Few additional darkspawn fell to the pit traps after that but their momentum had been stunted and those that entered the mist were slowed even further, faltering as their senses failed them. Pausing in his work, half way done inscribing runes into the opposite ends of the roof boards, Harry stood up and watched. Without taking the time to count he suspected that even after the pits there were still nearly a hundred of the creatures. Harry waited patiently for every last one of them to finish crossing into the boundaries of the mist before he lifted his wand and waved it in the air with a flourish as if preparing to conduct a symphony.

The weapons of the fallen darkspawn that he'd charmed rose into the air as one. Swords and daggers, spears and maces, all thirty seven of the deadly implements that he'd gathered into a pile, spread out and hovered at the edge of the mist. With a final flourish of his wand the weapons came to life and shot forward, flying clumsily at the attacking darkspawn. Roughly animated the weapons had no finesse as they attacked acting as if they were held in the hands of invisible humans who'd recently indulged in a week long pub crawl. Normally, without superior numbers, the weapons would have been easily batted away but the darkspawn were disoriented and surprised and they were in no way prepared to defend themselves.

"This is why I allow you to travel with me," murmured Leliana teasingly as she watched the unfolding massacre, "it is endlessly entertaining to see what unusual method you will next use to defeat your enemies."

Harry turned to her, the dying cries of the darkspawn continuing in the background. "Now I feel used. "

Leliana patted him on the shoulder and he took a moment to glance at the templars who were staring in fascination as the darkspawn continued to be slaughtered by the hovering weapons. The mercenaries on the other hand were more obvious in their appreciation of the display and they openly began cheering and whooping in glee. Some of the darkspawn managed to make it past the death trap only to stumble from the mist and find themselves summarily cut down by the defenders. As the darkspawn numbers dwindled the charmed weapons started teaming up on them and Harry shuddered as half a dozen swords simultaneously impaled the head of a single genlock only for its cranium to dissolve in a shower of gore as the weapons pulled themselves free. He knelt back down to etch the last of the runes into the wagon roof.

"Do not despair Harry," Leliana said while smiling, "I did not say it was the only reason I allow you to travel with me. But perhaps you should retrieve your broom? We should be gone from here while they are still distracted."

"Right. About that..." Harry twitched his wand and the manacles holding the mage prisoners vanished. The elven woman pushed herself to her feet against the wagon while the man simply continued to sit on the ground, unmoving.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Leliana hissed but he was too busy motioning for the elf to join then to respond and, after only a moment of hesitation, the mage pulled herself quickly to the top of the wagon. Realizing that something untoward was happening the merchant couple ran, most likely not wanting to get in the middle of a fight between templars and mages. Some of the templars finally noticed what was happening and started shouting but Harry ignored them for the moment to instead yell down at the man on the ground.

"Last chance to escape." Harry called out to the second mage but the man had no expression on his face. He was untouched by the events around him.

"He is already lost wizard. Whatever you intend you must do it now!" The elf shouted. Leliana simply stared at Harry incredulously and he began to worry that he'd broken her.

"Mage!" He turned and noticed that the darkspawn were now all dead and the templars were moving to array themselves around the wagon with their blades still drawn, many of them covered in blood. Their leader was once again doing the talking and she spoke carefully in measured tones once she realized that she had his attention. "You must come down now. While we most likely owe you our lives you must realize that it is our duty to take you with us to the tower in Val Royeaux."

She turned to stare at the elf standing beside him and Harry did as well. The mage's face was twisted with hate and she had both of her palms cupped around a red glow which was clearly aimed towards the templars.

"And the apostate beside you is a murderer, I will see her tranquil or dead before the week is out."

Harry reached out and gently lowered the elf mage's hands and she turned her head to glare at him. He shook his head and after a brief staring contest she unhappily clenched her hands into fists, extinguishing whatever spell she had been preparing to cast. Harry looked back at the templars calmly. "I'm sorry but it sounds like self-defence to me, not murder. I can't let you have her."

"Then you leave me no choice," she turned and nodded to the templars who all began to move towards the wagon. Leliana cursed and lifted her bow while the mage again raised her hands but before anyone could die Harry whistled as loudly as he could. The piercing sound startled everyone and they all froze, pausing long enough for the army of charmed weapons to fly from the battlefield and drop down to hover threateningly between the wagon and the templars. A few of the templars looked nervously at the implements, all of which were dripping blood, but most of them appeared surprisingly contemptuous of the implied threat.

The leader closed her eyes and clasped her hands together as if praying and Harry was surprised to see a bright blue glow begin to form between her palms. When the light seemed too bright for her to contain any longer she then spread her arms outward and let the glow burst forth engulfing everything on the hilltop. Harry reflexively threw up a protego but the light just washed through it undeterred. Afterwards the templar opened her eyes and looked expectantly at the darkspawn weapons only for her expression to turn to one of surprise when nothing further happened and Harry couldn't help but wonder what exactly she'd just tried to do.

"How in the Maker's name..." she murmured.

"Right," Harry drawled, unsure what had just happened, "I think we're going to leave now."

"Do you think we will merely let you walk away mage even if it costs us our lives to stop you?" the templar looked up at him and growled.

Shaking his head Harry silently drew one last symbol in the air with his wand and then hammered it into the centre of the wagon roof. He then knelt down, pulling his two startled companions down with him, and placed his hand on the spot where he'd just spelled the control rune.

"For the last time templar, I'm a wizard," Harry admonished, "And wizards rarely walk anywhere."

The wooden roof tore itself free from the wagon, hovered for a moment, and then hurtled into the sky taking its passengers with it.

Authors Notes :

So there you have it. It was a much harder chapter to write than the last one, and not just because it ended up being longer, but I think it turned out ok.

My thanks to everyone who reviewed whether it was to share your in depth thoughts on the chapter or just to let me know that you're enjoying the story and offer encouragement. As always I'd love to hear from you so please – keep the reviews coming.

I'm not sure how long it will take me to get chapter 6 out – but I'd guess between 2 and 3 weeks. Fyi - I occasional post status updates on my profile if anyone is ever curious. If I haven't updated the profile recently that probably means I haven't been writing either.


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